


Various Clint Barton Prompts

by asamandra



Series: Prompt lists [3]
Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: After infinity war, Bantering, Clint can lift Mjölnir, D/s relationship, F/M, M/M, Mind Control, Prisoner!Clint, Ronin - Freeform, Serial Killer!Steve, Slavery, Strike Team Delta, Tumblr Prompt, Winged!Clint, a/b/o dynamics, and Tony has a new house, clint's been in jail, guard!Phil, implied rape, spy bruce, undercover with the IMF, various prompts without prompt list, winter soldier!clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-05-17 07:05:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 34,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asamandra/pseuds/asamandra
Summary: Various prompts from my clintbartonruinedmylife blog on tumblr :D





	1. Clint Barton & Loki

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked:  
> can you continue the fic where clint is an asgardian slave and the one where he’s brainwashed by hydra and Thor sends for loki but with no smut please
> 
> Continued from [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13685403/chapters/31681188#main) chapter.

Clint was nervous when he went to Prince Loki’s suite this morning. His hands were clammy and he tried to wipe them dry on his tunic. And then he knocked.

“Enter!” he could hear the voice of his owner and he obeyed, he went in and knelt down immediately. 

“Master,” Clint said quietly. Prince Loki sat on a chair but he rose and came over, walked around him and read the tag on his collar. 

“You are mine,” Loki said. 

“Yes, Master,” Clint confirmed. 

“You’ve been assigned to kitchen duty,” Loki said. Clint licked his lips and glanced up for a split second.

“Yes, Master,” he said. He had no idea why he asked him all those weird questions but who was he to question his owner?

“How old are you, Clint?” Prince Loki asked. 

“I’m sixteen, Master,” Clint said.

“When did I buy you?” 

“Six years ago, Master,” Clint said. “You bought a group of slaves from Midgard. I was one of them.” 

“You… and your brother?” Prince Loki went back to his chair and sat down to scrutinize him. 

“Yes, Master,” Clint said. “He’s a field slave, Master.” 

“You stole food in the kitchen to bring it to the slaves in the barns. You knew that you would lose your status as house slave if you got captured and yet, you risked it. Why?” 

“Master,” Clint started. “The slaves…” 

“Don’t tell me they’re starving. They get enough chow,” Loki said. 

“Some of the slaves, they take away the food from others and there’s nothing they can do, Master. They are bigger, stronger and the others, they have to work hungry, they can’t do their job and they get punished, sometimes beaten to death for their bad work. I have seen it, Master. The overseers don’t care,” Clint said. “They say, Midgardian slaves are cheap.” 

“And you decided to bring food to them to keep them alive,” Loki leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. 

“Yes, Master,” Clint cast his eyes down and nodded. 

“So, you’re here for six years and you know the rules. Yet you risk your status, your privileges as a house slave for the slaves in the barns,” Loki said. Clint had no idea if this was a question or just a statement. 

“My brother, Master,” he said. “You… you have a brother, too. Wouldn’t you do the same for him?” 

Prince Loki’s brows hit his hairline and then he chuckled. “I wouldn’t bet on it,” he said then. “But the relationship with my brother is… difficult.” 

“I… understand, Master,” Clint said. He really didn’t, but he had to say something. 

“Do you?” Loki asked and cocked his head. “Maybe you do, maybe you don’t. But you have the… how do you Midgardians say? You have the balls to risk everything just to help your brother.” 

“Yes, Master,” Clint said quietly. He still had no idea why he asked so many questions. 

“Come over to me,” Loki said and when Clint wanted to crawl on his knees, he added, “You have feet, use them.”

He blushed violently but he rose and walked to the throne-like chair Prince Loki sat on, waited for a moment and knelt down again. The prince seemed pleased and he leaned forward, put both his hands on Clint’s temples and murmured, “Let’s see what else you have.” 

Pain surged through his brain and he bit his lip to not cry out. It felt as if fingers searched something and it hurt, it hurt so much. 

“You know how to shoot a bow?” Loki asked. Clint nodded. 

“Yes, Master,” he pressed through his teeth. “I learned it before…” 

“Before the slavers came to your world and took you,” Loki finished his sentence. 

“Yes, Master.” 

“Would you like to shoot a bow again?” Loki asked and this time Clint’s head snapped up and stared at him open-mouthed. 

“Yes, Master,” he breathed. A smile appeared on Prince Loki’s lips and he leaned forward again. 

“Stand up, Clint,” Loki said and rose himself. He held his hand out for Clint to take it. “We have lots of work to do.”


	2. Clint Barton & Loki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:  
> can you continue the fic where clint is an asgardian slave and the one where he’s brainwashed by hydra and Thor sends for loki but with no smut please
> 
> Continued from [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13685403/chapters/31434498) chapter

“Tell me again, what do we need him for?” Tony asked. He had the scepter in front of himself on the conference table, out of reach of Loki but they all were sure, if he wanted to get his hands on it Loki would have no problems. The trickster leaned back in his chair, his hands folded over his stomach and looked bored at them. “I mean, we have the scepter, right?” 

Loki cocked his head. “It is right in front of you,” he said. “Why don’t you just use it? I volunteer, try to control me.” 

“It will not work, Tony,” Thor said. 

“I’m pretty sure that me and Bruce can…” 

“Do nothing without magic,” Loki finished his sentence.

“Damn magicians,” Natasha muttered and glared at Loki. 

“So, do you want my help now?” He asked. 

“Yes,” Thor said. 

“I just don’t understand what happened? I mean, what did you do to him when…” Bruce said, stopped, looked at Thor and then licked his lips. “Back then,” he said then. 

Loki took a deep breath and turned to him. “When I had Agent Barton under my control,” he said and folded his hands, “I wanted to make sure that he stays that way and so I put a spell on him to prevent that someone else could control him. I had no idea that this hit on his head would free his mind to a certain degree but the spell stayed in place. And when these Hydra guys tried to control him, the spell got activated.” 

“And you need the scepter, to…” Natasha said.

“To remove the spell I left of course,” Loki said.

“Of course.” 

“Can we start now? My cell in Asgard is waiting for me and I’m pretty sure the other prisoners are missing me already,” Loki said with a side glance at his brother.

“Follow me,” Thor said and rose. He went to Tony, took the scepter and nodded at Loki to follow him. The other Avengers followed him, too, and together they went to the Hulk room, where they had locked Clint in. 

“You need to… secure him. Or hold him,” Loki said. 

Thor looked at Steve, who nodded and together they entered the room. He had given the scepter to Bruce who stared at it as if it could explode any moment. Together they cornered him and when they grabbed his arms Clint spat at them, yelled, called them names and struggled. There was a chair in the room and they dragged him over to it. 

“If this doesn’t work,” Tony said and glared at Loki. “Believe me, you will regret the day you laid eyes on our planet.” 

“It will work,” Loki smiled and bowed his head. Tony held his eyes with his own for a long moment, before he started to smile. 

“Sure it will,” he said and activated the Hulkbuster suit with the wristband he wore. It would be here in only a few seconds if Loki tried something. And he wanted to make sure to really hurt him this time. 

Thor and Steve had managed to secure Clint to the chair, they had tied his hands and his feet and while Steve held his head Thor came to open the door. 

“Are you ready?” he asked his brother and the man nodded, held out his hand and Bruce gave him the scepter. They watched the two men enter the Hulk room and Natasha put her hands around herself.

“I have a bad feeling,” she said. Bruce nodded and Tony checked the Hulkbuster suit again. Loki went to Clint with the scepter and touched his chest with it. Clint screamed, convulsed and his eyes… his eyes turned pitch black and then blue… and after a moment the color vanished and they were the usual blueish-green. He breathed hard and his head dropped. 

Loki smirked and - after a long moment - gave the scepter to Steve, who hurried out of the room with it. The trickster went to Thor, whispered something in his ear, smiled, and went to the door, too. 

“What did you say to him?” Tony blurted as soon as he left the Hulk room. They saw Thor go to Clint, to untie him and to hold him and this time the archer didn’t struggle or fight, he wrapped his arms around Thor as well and kissed the Asgardian. 

“Oh, I just told him that he owes me a favor,” Loki smiled. “And now I would like to go back to Asgard? This planet is exhausting.”


	3. Clint Barton & Thor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: I would love to see a fic where Clint is worthy to lift Mjölnir.

It was the third invasion attempt this month and the city couldn’t even clear away the debris from last time when the next attack came. 

He had no idea where these bastards came from but fortunately they weren’t as good as the last ones. They fought for hours now and only their sheer number helped them. For now. Apparently they didn’t expect the Avengers to be good fighters and their numbers were dwindling. Slowly.

Clint was - armed with his bow and a cart-load of arrows - on a roof. His whole body hurt and he was thirsty, but they had still bazillions of fuckers to kill. 

“Thor, careful, you have a string of those bastards on your tail,” he said and Thor reacted immediately, he turned around and shot - still flying - lightnings on them. But it was a bad decision because now they flew in all directions and one of them collided with his head and Thor came down on another roof with a bump, he lost Mjölnir and in an instant he was covered by alien creatures. Mjölnir flew away and landed not far away from Clint, on the next roof. 

“Thor!” he gasped. And shot an arrow. And shot another arrow. And shot a third arrow. And there were still so many aliens on him and Thor didn’t move. 

“Iron man!” He called, but Tony was busy with his own share of aliens, Falcon, too, and he couldn’t even see Vision. The rest of the team was down on the ground and all of them had their own problems and Thor needed his weapon, but he couldn’t even lift his hand. 

“Damn,” Clint cursed and started to run. The gap between the two houses wasn’t too wide and when he fell… well… then he had no problems anymore. But Thor needed his help. He sped up and jumped…. and landed with a somersault. He got up, ran, and reached Mjölnir and without thinking he grabbed the handle and threw it over to Thor. A few of the aliens on top of Thor got swept away and Thor could move again. He grabbed the hammer and continued fighting.

***

They won. It was one of the hardest fights they had but they won. The city looked awful and Falcon was in surgery right now but they won. SHIELD was here to collect the zillions of alien bodies and their weapons while the team sat in an almost undamaged Tapas bar and ate.

Thor had just cleared his plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin when he turned to look at Clint, scrutinized him for a moment and then reached down, took Mjölnir and put it on the table. The other Avengers looked at him and Tony just opened his mouth, when Thor said, “Take it.” 

“What?” Clint blurted and stared at him disbelievingly. “I… you know that I can’t.” 

“Try it,” Thor insisted. 

“Is this… is this a joke?” Clint asked now and Thor shook his head. 

“Why?” Clint wanted to know now but Thor only looked at him. He licked his lips when he reached for the handle. As soon as he touched it Mjölnir felt warm in his hand and his finger tingled. 

“Oh my god,” Tony blurted. Clint looked down and saw, that he held Thor’s hammer in his hand. 

“Oh my god,” he said, too. Thor’s glance was unreadable. 

“That’s…” Steve said and stared open-mouthed. “How?” 

Thor started to smile and patted Clint’s shoulder. “Because he’s worthy.”


	4. Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a Clintasha platonic piece where they are sent out on separate missions only to meet up when Clint is rewarded by some gang member with Natashas 'company' for the night?

Clint came into the bar, together with Jay and Randy. They went to the barkeeper and Jay slammed a fist on the bar. “Beer!” he called. 

Johnny, the barkeeper, shook his head disapprovingly but he brought three bottles of beer and placed them in front of them. A huge man with a thick beard and many, many tattoos came over to them and leaned himself against the bar, looked at them expectantly. 

“Hey, boss!” Randy called, grinned and raised his bottle in the man’s direction. 

“How’d it go?” He asked. His voice was very low, very grumbling and Fury would look like a preschooler beside him. 

“You should’ve seen him, boss,” Jay said now. “Clay is probably the best shot I’ve ever seen!” 

“Yeah, boss! It was awesome!” Randy added and nodded. “One goddamn shot and… pow!” He simulated an exploding head with his hands and grinned like a loon. 

Johnson, the man who led the gang, scrutinized him for a very long moment but Clint held his eyes. “So, Ban is dead?” 

“Yeah, boss,” Clint said. “As you’ve ordered.” 

Johnson nodded slowly and then he patted his shoulder. “Come with me,” he said. Clint looked at Randy and Jay and when they grinned, he took a sip from his beer and followed the boss. Johnson led him past the bar through the door. Behind it was a narrow corridor that led to two doors. The left led to his office, to the storages and to the backdoor. But Johnson unlocked the right one. Clint’s never been in this room and he was curious. Inside of the room was a bed, a chair, a nightstand and - tied to the bed - a red-haired woman. Nat! 

Clint didn’t react, he just looked from Nat to Johnson and back. 

“We got her yesterday,” Johnson said casually. “She was supposed to be a present for Mr. Ley, but you deserve a reward. No one could get to Ban and now he’s history, thanks to you. So,” he smirked evilly and patted Clint’s shoulder. “Have fun.” 

Before Clint could say something, Johnson had closed the door behind him and Clint leaned against the door, listened but when he heard him walk away he sighed and slid along the door to he ground. 

“Dammit, Nat!” He said. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to infiltrate a human trafficker organization in California?” 

Nat stopped pretending to be a scared damsel in distress and sat up as far as her chains allowed it. “Nice to see you, too, Barton,” she said. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked again. 

“Well, apparently our two cases are just one,” she sighed. “I couldn’t infiltrate the organization the way I planned and so I let them kidnap me.” 

“What? Are you out of your mind?” Clint hissed. Nat looked at him for a long moment, then started to move the bed against the wall to produce noises. 

“No! Please!” she screamed. Clint frowned for a second, but then he realized it was quite possible that someone listened from outside. “Please, no!” she screamed again. “It was the easiest way,” she added quietly. “I had no idea that they would bring me to Texas… and to you.” 

Clint moaned hoarsely, put his foot against the footrest of the bed and shoved it so that it slammed against the wall repeatedly. 

“What now?” Clint asked. Natasha screamed for help a few times before she shrugged. 

“You call Fury, tell him what happened,” she said. “And I will escape when you left. Not right after you left, but when someone else was here, you know, someone else who can bear the blame.” 

“Will you manage?” Clint asked and groaned loud again, added a few “Yeah’s” and more moans and then shrugged apologetically. 

“Sure,” she said. “You have everything you need?” Clint nodded.

“I guess, since Johnson gave me such a valuable reward, I’m in,” he grinned. Natasha rolled her eyes again. 

“And I guess you’re done by now,” she said. “Be careful.” Clint rose, reached in his pocket, took out a paperclip and gave it to her. 

“You, too, Nat,” he smiled and left the room with a satisfied grin on his face.


	5. Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May I please suggest for a writing prompt, Clintasha bantering while still kicking butt during an intense fight scene during a mission?

The quinjet landed on a parking lot, the hatch opened and two people appeared, a red haired woman and a dirty blond man with purple shades, both wore tactical gear, both carried bags. They looked at each other, nodded and walked down the hatch. The woman gestured with her hand and the quinjet started and flew away. 

“Ready?” She asked and the man smirked. 

“Age before beauty,” he said. 

“You’re older than me, Barton.” she sighed and the man’s smirk broadened.

“And I’m prettier than you,” he added. 

“In your dreams,” she snorted. A car waited for them and as soon as the agent behind the wheel saw them, he started the engine. They climbed in, Nat on the passenger’s seat, Clint in the back. 

“Everything is prepared according to your instructions,” the very young agent said and looked in the rearview mirror at Clint. 

“Good,” he said and nodded. They both stayed quiet until the car stopped. 

“They’re here,” the agent said and pointed at the gate to a huge property with mansion. Natasha nodded, opened the door and left the car and Clint followed her only a moment later. 

“Wait here,” she said. “We’re back in an hour.” The agent’s eyes widened. The mansion was heavily guarded and the mercenaries in and around it were considered the best in their field. Clint smirked, saluted sloppily, grabbed his bag and walked away and Natasha followed him. 

“It’s cute when they’re so easy to impress,” he said and Natasha snorted. 

“Youth of today,” she sighed but with a grin. 

They checked their comm units and then they parted. Clint went to the right, Natasha to the left. The property had two entries. Clint would cause a distraction at the main gate so Natasha could get in through the backdoor. 

“Ready?” Clint asked and when Nat confirmed, he nocked an arrow, waited for the next car and shot an arrow in the tire. The driver lost control of his car and hit the gate and only a few seconds later a bunch of mercenaries appeared at the gate. 

“Coast is clear,” Clint said. 

“On my way,” Natasha confirmed. “Getting a bit slow?” She added then. 

Clint snorted. “Not my fault that the guy drove like an old crone.” 

“Like you?” Nat asked while Clint climbed the fence. He shot two of the mercenaries and ran up to the mansion. He could hear shots from the house and grabbed the next arrow. Two mercs ran in the same direction and Clint took them out. 

“I’m a very good driver,” Clint said. “Unless someone who totalled three cars in only one year.” 

Clint could hear more shots, he took out three more mercenaries and then arrived at the entrance. He killed two men who searched for Natasha in the entrance hall. 

“My, my, my,” Clint teased when he ran up the stairs, “Looks like you missed some.” 

“I thought you were bored,” she said and Clint could hear breaking glass and a few seconds later a dead mercenary fell down the stairs. And Natasha appeared, led a tied up man down the stairs and shoved him in Clint’s direction when she was close. “Here, you can have him,” she smirked. 

Clint put a hand on his chest. “Aww, that’s so sweet, honey,” he cooed but grabbed the man’s arm and dragged him to the door. A mercenary tried to free his boss and Natasha saw him and shot him while Clint shoved the tied up man to the door. 

“I bring you gifts, you buy the drinks,” she smirked, looked out of the door and when the coast was clear she went to one of the SUVs, opened the driver’s door and climbed in, hot-wired it and drove to Clint. He shoved the bad guy onto the backseat, sat down beside him and grinned, when Nat drove through the closed gate. 

“I love it when a plan comes together,” he said and Natasha rolled her eyes. 

“Did you really just quote Hannibal Smith on me?” she asked and Clint shrugged. 

“At least I didn’t smoke a cigar,” he said then and Nat looked over her shoulder at him for a second.

“I would kill you if you smoked a cigar in here,” she muttered. 

“Well, what can I say,” he said. “I love you, too.”


	6. Clint Barton/Phil Coulson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: implied rape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [midghtwishesunheard](http://midghtwishesunheard.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  Can we get some phlint with some angst on the side please and thank you?

“Okay,” Steve said and sat down at the round table in their conference room. “I have good news and bad news.” He sighed. 

“Good news first,” Tony said and looked up from his tablet. 

“We know where Orson is. He’s in Folsom State Prison,” he said. And then he leaned forward and put both arms on the table. “And that’s when we come to the bad news. Someone needs to go in. Undercover.” 

They all shared glances and then, after a few moments, they focussed on Clint. He looked up from his tablet and frowned. “What? Me?” he pointed at his chest. 

“You’re the logical choice,” Tony said. “Everyone and their dog knows me, Steven or Thor, Nat is a woman and honestly we can’t throw Bruce in a jail.” 

Clint looked at them, at all of them, then rose and left the room without a word. Phil opened his mouth but he closed it when Clint threw the door shut behind himself. 

“What was that?” Bruce asked confused and furrowed his brows. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Phil said and went to follow Clint. 

“He’s been there,” Natasha said when Coulson was gone, too. “Folsom,” she added then. 

“Barton?” Tony blurted. “Really?” 

Natasha nodded. “He was seventeen and got sentenced as an adult. That’s why they sent him to Folsom and not to a juvie.” 

“Fuck,” Tony muttered and Steve cocked his head. 

“It’s a not so nice place for a seventeen years old boy,” Natasha explained. 

“And what now?” Thor asked. 

“Let Phil talk to him,” she said.

***

Phil found him on the roof deck where he could watch the city. He sat there and let his feet dangle over the edge.

“Clint,” Phil said and sat down beside him, carefully to not look down. 

“I… I know it’s necessary,” he whispered. “We need to know what Orson knows and we can’t just go and ask him, he would never talk to us.” 

“Clint,” Phil said again but Clint continued. 

“But, Phil,” he looked at him now, “I can’t go back there.” 

“Your former cellmate died a few years ago,” Phil said. “I checked it.” 

“The prison… all the memories…” Clint closed his eyes and shook his head, “What… what he did to me…” he swallowed hard. 

“You don’t have to go,” Phil said and turned to look at Clint. 

“But we need Orson’s informations,” Clint said and for the first time he looked back at Phil. 

“I know,” Phil said. “But you don’t have to go,” he repeated. “I’ll go.” 

“You?” Clint blurted. “You can’t go to jail!” 

“Why not? I’m a trained agent and I’m perfectly capable to do undercover missions. It’s not my first time by the way.” 

“But… it’s dangerous,” Clint said. “You… you could get hurt!” 

“It’s just a few days, two weeks at the maximum,” Phil smiled. “I can take care of myself for a while.” 

“Phil,” Clint said and now Phil interrupted him. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I love you and I would never let you go back to that place.” 

“Thank you,” Clint whispered. “Phil… really,” he licked his lips, “thank you.” 

Phil slid over to him and put his arm around his waist. He closed the distance and kissed Clint’s temple and Clint turned to kiss him properly. 

“I love you, too.”


	7. Clint Barton/Bruce Banner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [machimaquiaveli](https://machimaquiaveli.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  Slave raiding in Medieval Italy with Clint leading the raid and Bruce being among the captures? Pretty please?

Clint sat on his horse and looked over the village in the valley beneath him. Natasha led her own horse beside his and looked at him. 

“What do you think?” she asked and Clint shrugged. 

“They rely on the mountains as protection. Only one way in over there,” he pointed at the valley cut opposite of them. “No guards, no nothing,” he said and shook his head. 

“And lots and lots of sturdy men for the markets in Morocco,” she grinned. Clint nodded and looked over his shoulder. He gestured at Barney, his brother. He and a few of their men would block the entrance to the valley and the rest of them would come down the mountains around the village. Barney mounted his horse and he and his men rode away. Twenty minutes later Clint saw his brother arrive on the other side of the village. 

“Ready?” he asked Natasha and the rest of their men and when she nodded he put on his mask, pulled out his sword and spurred his horse. 

An hour later they had rounded up all the men in the village. The women were locked in one of the bigger houses and Clint dismounted. The men were tied up and on their knees and Clint and Nat went over to them. He walked along them and scrutinized them. 

“Too old,” he said and pointed at the first man. “Too old… too fat… this one… this one, too… too old… this one…” he said and Nat marked the ones they wanted to keep. They were almost at the end of the line when Clint stopped. A man knelt in front of him, his hands tied behind his back like all the other man but this one was different. He had curly hair and sinful lips, long lashes and beautiful dark eyes. He was scared - like all of them - but also curious. Clint grabbed his face, not too tight, gently, turned it from left to right and back. He touched his lips with his thumb and the man swallowed but didn’t look away. There was something… something...

Clint turned to look at Nat, “This one,” he said and she rolled her eyes but took the man’s arm and forced him to rise. She and one of their men led him away and Clint continued to assess the goods. 

“Too young… too small… this one… this one… this one… too weak… too sick… this one…” 

Later that evening they were back in their camp. The men they wanted to sell were locked up in a pen and heavily guarded. They would bring them to Genoa where Captain Barnes would buy them and bring them to Morocco. 

Scott and Peter brought the prisoner in his tent and went back to the campfire to celebrate their successful raid. He and Barney had brought them a barrel of rum and the two wanted to get their share. The prisoner knelt in the tent, bound to the main post and tried to get rid of his ties.

“It’s futile,” Clint said. “You wouldn’t get out of the camp.” 

The man glared at him angrily and Clint felt his dick twitch in his pants. He was hot when he was angry. He hunkered down in front of him and looked at him, scrutinized him carefully. 

“What’s your name?” he asked and grabbed his face, forced him to look at him. The man squeezed his lips together and Clint pressed his thumbs in his cheeks. “What’s your name?” He repeated. 

“Dottore Brizzio Bernardi,” the man pressed through his teeth. 

“A doctor, huh?” Clint asked. “I had no idea that a small village like that has its own doctor.” 

“I was there to treat a patient,” he said. A smirk crept on Clint’s face. 

“And now you’re just a slave,” he grinned. “My slave.” 

“Why are you doing this?” the doctor asked. Clint shrugged. 

“It’s family business,” he said. He reached out and cupped the man’s face, touched his lips again. “It’s what we do.” 

“You can still let them go,” Brizzio said. Clint shook his head. 

“No. They will go to Morocco soon,” he said. “But you…” he smirked again, “I guess I will keep you.” 

The doctor looked up, held Clint’s eyes with his. “Why? Why me?” 

“You’re cute,” he shrugged. “And we could need a doctor. Sometimes people… get hurt.” 

“I will never work for you,” Brizzio spat and glared angrily. 

“We’ll see, sweetheart, we’ll see.”


	8. Clint Barton & Thor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you do a platonic thunderhawk?

Clint was bored. They hadn’t had an attack in weeks, which was good, no doubt, but yet, he was bored out of his mind. Of course he had practiced a lot, he had trained with the junior agents, he had started a prank war with Tony and won it but nevertheless, he was bored. 

Right now he lounged on the couch and played Candy Crush on his phone and a little bit he hoped that someone would attack them. 

“What are you doing?” Someone asked and Clint looked up. Thor leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded. 

“Nothing,” Clint sighed and yawned. “Just lying around.” 

“You look unhappy,” Thor said and came over. He sat down in an armchair and looked at him. 

“No,” Clint shook his head. “Just bored out of my futzing mind.” 

“Why do you always say futzing. I know that you mean another word,” Thor asked suddenly. Clint stopped, furrowed his brows and pursed his lips.

“Dunno,” he admitted after a moment. “It’s… it’s better than fucking when the kids are around.” 

“But your children are not around,” Thor said and Clint nodded slowly. 

“Yeah,” he said. “If they were here we could go rollerskating or go for a ride with the horses or… or go water skiing,” he sighed. “And here? Here I lie around and wait for the next attack and I can’t even go to my family to not endanger them.” 

“We could go out,” Thor said. Clint lifted his head, looked at him with one brow raised. 

“What?” 

“You can show me what this water skiing is,” Thor shrugged. “It sounds interesting.” 

“You want to go water skiing with me?” Clint asked and sat up. “Like…” he gestured helplessly with his hand between them. 

“Is it uncommon on Midgard that two friends do things together?” Thor asked, his head cocked. 

“No,” Clint said quickly, “no, no, it’s just… I thought… well… after you and Jane… uhm… after she dumped you… and…” 

“She did not dump me,” Thor muttered. “It was… mutual dumping.” 

“I… what?” 

“Nothing,” Thor said. “I just thought you are alone here without your family and I am alone since me and Jane are separated and it would be nice to do something with a friend.” 

“Water skiing?” Clint asked and Thor shrugged again. 

“Why not? I have never tried it and it sounds like fun,” he said. A smile appeared on Clint’s face. 

“Sure,” he said. “Why not. Let’s go water skiing. I know a place, you’ll love it!” 

“Then let us go.”


	9. Clint Barton/Steve Rogers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Why are you like this?” Amerihawk, please.

Steve found him in the small room he used to build his trick arrows. He sat there, hunched over a table and worked on something Steve couldn’t see. He wore goggles with lamps in it and didn’t look up when Steve entered. But he was pretty sure that Clint knew that he was here. He walked around the table, saw a box and sat on it. 

Clint didn’t look up. He pressed his lips tight together, reached for one of his tools and continued working on a new trick arrow. 

“Hey,” Steve said after a moment. Clint kept quiet. He put the screwdriver on his table and took the soldering iron. 

“Clint,” he tried a few moments later but Clint still ignored him. He sighed. 

“Why are you like this?” Steve huffed frustrated and Clint threw his soldering iron and his arrow-tip on the table, removed his goggles and glared at him. 

“You really have no idea, don’t you?” He snapped. 

“I haven’t done…” Steve started but Clint interrupted him. 

“Don’t say it! Don’t you dare say it!” He growled. 

“I just thought…” Steve tried this time but once again Clint stopped him. 

“No!” he bellowed. “No, you didn’t think! I’m not just someone you know because we happen to work together!” 

“Clint, I…” Steve said but Clint raised a finger and glared angrily at him. He closed his mouth and nodded. 

“Shut up! Now I’m talking! When you need a fucktoy you know where to find me but when we’re in public you always act as if I’m just a coworker you don’t even like very much! Every single time!” 

“Can I…” Steve started but Clint’s glare was murderous. 

“Why are you talking? Why are your lips moving?” He spat. Steve closed his mouth, nodded and gestured with his hand to go on. 

“I’m sick of you treating me like your goddamn doormat! I’m so sick of it!” He leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s either we are partners or this is over! I can’t… I just can’t…” he stopped and shook his head. 

“May I speak now?” Steve asked and Clint glared but nodded after a moment. “I always tried to protect you.” 

“To what? To protect me? Protect me from what?” Clint snarled and Steve looked away. 

“When… when the people know what we do, then.. I… I don’t want you to…” Steve tried to explain himself but it was more difficult than he thought. 

“What? Do you think they would drag us onto the town square and stone us to death? We’re not in the dark ages anymore!” 

“That wasn’t… I don’t…” Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I love you, Clint, but I thought you would want to keep it… well… to ourselves.” 

“What I want, Steven, is to go out with my boyfriend, to walk along a street and hold hands, to sit in a restaurant like other couples, to go dancing or to a bar or… or just do things other couples do… together… do you get that?” 

“Okay,” Steve nodded. “Okay, from now on… no secretiveness anymore.” 

“Really?” Clint asked. Steve’s immediate agreement took the wind out of his sails and he deflated literally. He sat there and swallowed. 

“Yes, really,” Steve said and reached over to take his hands. “And to show you that I really mean it, what do you think about a very public, very official date right this evening? We can eat out and then go dancing.” 

“You really mean it?” Clint asked, a little bit sceptical. 

“Yes, I really mean it. And… and I’m sorry, Clint, I never wanted to treat you like a doormat. I love you and… for all I care… everyone can know it.” Clint smiled now and stroked Steve’s hand with his thumb. 

“I love you, too. And tonight you can show me how much you love me.”


	10. Clint Barton/Steve Rogers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we get a darker, possessive Steve who doesn’t like it when anyone messes with his Clint? (Especially hydra) please and thank you

“One job!!” Steve bellowed and pointed his finger in Tony’s face. “You had one job!” 

“Yes, Steven,” Tony snarled back. “To fight against Hydra and their goons! And not to babysit your boyfriend.” 

Steve glared at him for a while but then he pressed his lips together angrily and turned around. “And where have you been?” he snapped at Sam now. 

“I shot down the helicopters,” Sam said straightfaced. “Maybe you remember, one of them almost ripped off your leg.” 

Steve’s gaze fell onto the bandage around his knee for a second. 

“But they took Clint!” he spat now. “They could take Clint prisoner and you…” 

“We did what we had to do,” Natasha hissed now. “And we could already be on our way to save him if we wouldn’t have to stand around and listen to you complaining.” 

If looks could kill Natasha would burn to ash in an instant. Tony ignored Steve’s glances and went to one of the consoles, wiped over the surface to let the keyboard appear and started to type. Steve paced behind him while the rest of the team left the control room one by one. 

“It’s not really helpful when you breathe down my neck all the time!” Tony snapped and Steve sat down but he couldn’t avert his eyes. 

Only god knew what Hydra did to Clint right now. They could torture him… or worse! He could be dead by now for all he knew. 

“Here,” Tony said after a while, wiped at the screen and the map appeared in the middle of the room. And there was a blinking dot on it. “That’s where they are.” 

“Are you sure? How do you know?” Steve asked and Tony raised a brow. 

“Do you really want me to explain how I could find them?” He asked and Steve glared again, but he left the room. It didn’t matter how Tony could find their location as long as he got Clint back, safe and sound.

He grabbed his stuff and went to the hangar where the quinjet was waiting for them. Tony didn’t fly ahead in his suit, he had to fly the jet since Clint wasn’t here. The team came, too, and they buckled in while Steve explained the plan. But no one really listened. They all knew that - once they were there - Steve would throw over whatever plan he had just pieced together. 

The Hydra base was a fortress but it couldn’t withstand the Avengers and an extra pissed off Captain America. And while the rest of the team leveled out the buildings Steve tore open door after door, beating Hydra goons to bloody pulps while searching for Clint. 

He knew he was right when he found a section of the building heavily guarded and he fought like a berserk. And soon after sixteen mostly dead or badly injured goons lay on the ground. Steve went to the door they had guarded and opened it. And then his blood ran cold. Inside of the room stood a chair, almost like the one Hydra had used on Bucky. Clint sat in it, his wrists tied to armrests and his legs to the panel beneath the seat. Wires and tubes stuck in his body and they had gagged him. Two goons stood beside him and both of them aimed a gun at his head. 

“I’m going to count to three,” he said slowly and threateningly. “If you still have your guns in your hands by then, you’ll regret the day your mothers dropped you!” 

Both men looked at each other for a split second but neither of them moved. 

“One,” Steve said and slid out of the buckles of his shield. The men still didn’t move. 

“Two,” he counted and he could see them swallow. 

“Three.” One of the guys got decapitated with the shield while Steve ripped of the arm with the gun of the other guy. He moved so fast, they didn’t see him coming. 

“Clint,” he said then gently, took out the gag and touched his face. “Clint, baby.” 

“Steve,” Clint whispered weakly. Whatever they had pumped in him had its effect. Steve tapped his comm.

“I need a medic here,” he bellowed. He didn’t wait for an answer, he just undid the cuffs that held Clint to the chair. “Someone’s coming to remove all the tubes and stuff.” 

“You’re here,” Clint mumbled and Steve cupped his face, pressed a tiny kiss on his forehead. 

“Of course I’m here,” he smiled. “I would follow you to hell to bring you back.” 

Clint smiled, too, and Steve kissed his cheek. 

Someone opened the door and Steve whirled around, saw two medics and Natasha enter. The two men - SHIELD personnel he realized - started to work immediately but Steve didn’t let go of Clint’s hand. 

“Let us bring him to our jet,” one of them asked. Steve glared at him but after a moment he reluctantly let go of Clint’s hand. 

He accompanied them out of the building. The fight was over and the Avengers won. Steve smiled and squeezed Clint’s hand again for a moment. “I love you, Clint.” 

“I love you, too.”


	11. Clint Barton/Thor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you do a predator/prey kink with the sentence," You're not gonna get away from me again my naughty hawk"? With Thor/Hawkeye pairing

Clint leaned against a wall. He breathed hard, tried to get his heartbeat under control. He was pretty sure Thor could hear him, his heart beat as loud as a sledgehammer. 

“Come out, come out,” the Asgardian sing-songed and Clint closed his eyes for a moment. He was too close, way too close. 

He looked around the corner and when the coast was clear he sprinted into the next corridor and tried to get to the elevator, tried to get out of the HQ. But he could hear a sound and whirled around. 

Thor stood behind him, a malicious grin on his face. 

“Thor, please,” Clint pleaded and made a step back, hit the wall and swallowed hard. 

“You are not gonna get away from me again my naughty hawk," he said and closed the distance. Clint tried to duck out of his reach but this time he couldn’t get away. Thor grabbed his arm and slammed him back in the wall. He couldn’t breathe for a moment and Thor took his chance, turned Clint around and twisted his arm on his back. 

“Thor, no… please!” Clint begged again but Thor pressed him in the wall with his whole body. Clint couldn’t move and Thor took his other wrist, twisted it around, too. With one hand he removed the belt out of his pants and tied Clint’s wrists. 

“No, Thor… don’t…” Clint whispered. But Thor ignored him, he dragged him to the elevator, slammed the button to call it. Clint struggled, he fought as hard as possible but Thor was not human, he was Asgardian, he was way stronger than Clint and so it was easy for him to shove Clint in the car. When the door went shut Thor pressed the button to the floor where he had his suite. 

“You are mine,” he hissed in Clint’s direction. “Do not forget that!” 

Once again he used his body to press Clint into the wall and he couldn’t move, couldn’t fight when he ran his hands over his body. 

“No,” Clint shook his head and glared at the man towering above him with all the venom he could manage. “Never!” 

“You can not get away,” Thor said. “You belong to me!” 

The elevator stopped, the door went open and Thor grabbed Clint again. He struggled, tried to kick Thor in the shins but the man held him so that he couldn’t reach him. When they arrived at the door the Asgardian pressed Clint against the wall, unlocked his door and shoved Clint in. He stumbled and fell to the floor, spun around and tried to crawl out of his reach but Thor was fast. He grabbed Clint, hoisted him up and continued dragging him away. To his bedroom. 

“No, Thor, no!” Clint struggled even more, twisted in his arms but Thor was relentless, he pushed open the door and threw Clint onto the bed. He bounced a few times and tried to get away but once again, the Asgardian was fast, was on him in an instant and before Clint could do anything, his shoes were gone and then Thor grabbed the waistband of his jeans and ripped them off of his body. It hurt and Clint yelped. 

He struggled even more, panted, gasped and kicked but Thor grabbed his ankles and pulled him close, spread his legs so his ass was open and available. 

“No!” Clint screamed but then he felt something hard at his entrance. “No! Don’t! Please!” 

With a painful thrust Thor shoved in and Clint screamed, squeezed his eyes shut. Thor put his hands on Clint’s waist, lifted it up a bit and started to pound him, hard and fast and it hurt. But the worst was, at the same time it felt good. He hit his prostate with every stroke and Clint felt his cock harden. 

“Please!” he panted now and Thor whispered in his ear. 

“What do you want, my hawk?” 

“Please,” he just repeated again and again and Thor sped up, fucked him hard. He reached around him, grabbed his cock and stroked it, let his finger glide over the glans and teased the slit. It felt so good, so, so good, and it hurt, and he was close and his brain short circuited and he came with a scream. Moments later Thor grunted behind him and he could feel him fill his channel with his hot seed. 

“Oh god,” Clint groaned a moment later and Thor moved back, out of his body and undid the belt. “Goddammit, that was so hot!” He laughed and rolled onto his back. 

Thor sat down beside him, a broad grin on his lips and he leaned down to kiss him. 

“You were right, my hawk, this is hot,” he whispered. “We should do it again.” 

“Definitely,” Clint said and wrapped his arms around Thor’s neck and kissed him again. “Love you, babe.” 

“I love you, too, my hawk.”


	12. Clint Barton/Steve Rogers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Why am I staring at a nude picture of yourself?” Amerihawk

It was in the middle of the night and Steve was tired when he entered his apartment. He stumbled in the living room, let his jacket drop and removed his boots and then he stopped dead in his tracks. Something was different. Something… 

“Oh my god!” he blurted. 

“Hey, babe,” Clint suddenly said. Apparently he had heard him and he came in the living room. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and kissed his neck. 

“Uh… Clint,” Steve said slowly. 

“Yeah, babe?” Clint asked and Steve looked over his shoulder. 

“Why am I staring at a nude picture of yourself?” He asked. Clint let go of him and came around, flopped down on the couch. 

“Because I hung one up,” he grinned. It was good, Steve had to admit. It wasn’t a photo, it was an oil painting and really beautiful. Clint stood on a meadow, his bow in his hand, an arrow nocked and he just aimed at something… and didn’t wear a stitch of clothing. 

“But… it’s in the living room!” he said and Clint’s grin broadened. 

“What? Are you ashamed?” he asked, his head cocked and Steve blushed violently. 

“No!” He said. “No, it’s just…” he blushed even more. “People come visiting us and… and… and they can see it!” 

Clint shrugged. “I don’t care,” he said. “I paid a pile of money for it and everyone and their uncle can see it for all I care.” 

“But… but why… I mean… not that I… you know… want to complain and all that…” 

“It’s a surprise for you,” Clint said. “A present.” He rose and went to Steve and smiled up at him. And when he frowned Clint cocked his head. 

“Three days ago we had our first anniversary,” Clint smiled. 

“Oh my god!” Steve was deep red. “I totally forgot and… and… I don’t have anything for you!” 

“Steve, baby,” Clint interrupted his rambling. “You’ve been on a mission, you don’t have to give me anything. The fact that you’re back, safe and sound, is enough.” 

“But…” Steve started. Clint put a finger over Steve’s lips and he shut up and then he leaned up, put both hands on his cheeks and kissed him, long and intense and Steve’s knees went weak. He was a really good kisser. 

“I love you,” he whispered when they broke and Clint’s smile broadened. 

“Yeah?” he said. 

“Yeah,” Steve said and nodded. 

“That’s good,” Clint smiled. “Because I love you, too.”


	13. Clint Barton/Tony Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ameriwinterhawk/Ironhawk “I think I’m in the future”

“Okay,” Clint said. “Wanna tell me where we going?” 

Tony turned his head and looked at him and Clint gestured at the street, “Whoa, don’t you think it’s a good idea to look at the street?” 

“Come on, Clint,” Tony snorted. “You should know that I don’t need to look at the street.” 

He let go of the wheel and turned completely to him now. 

“Tony,” Clint said, a bit nervous now. 

“My car knows where we want to go and it can bring us there,” Tony said and grinned. 

“I hate it when you do that,” Clint muttered but he stopped, when Tony leaned over to him to kiss him. 

“Trust me,” he whispered… and Clint did. He leaned back, folded his arms over his chest and pursed his lips. 

“I do trust you,” he said after a long moment but Tony only chuckled. He looked out of the window and had a good idea where they drove to. The place, where Tony’s Malibu home had been. 

“Oh fuck!” Clint said and stared open mouthed when they stopped. There was a new house, a really, really beautiful one. 

“Yeah,” Tony smirked. 

“Come on, let me show you around,” he said and got out of the car. Clint followed him. Tony took his hand and led him to the door. 

When they came close it went open without touching it. ‘Good afternoon, Mr. Stark,’ the voice of an AI said. It wasn’t Friday and it definitely wasn’t Jarvis. 

“Hello, Alfred,” Tony said and Clint raised a brow. 

“Alfred?” he asked. “And you’re Batman now?” 

“I like it,” Tony grinned. 

The house was awesome. Tony had build in everything, literally everything Clint could imagine and things he never even thought about. 

“Oh my god,” he said in awe when they were back in the living room. “I think I’m in the future. This is… this is like a spaceship!” 

“Just without engines,” Tony smiled. “You like it?” 

“How can you not like it? It’s awesome.” 

“So…” Tony looked at his feet for a moment and reached in his pocket to pull out a key. “Wanna move in with me?” 

“Really?” Clint asked disbelievingly. “You… you want me to… to live with you… here? In this awesome house?” 

“Clint,” Tony smiled gently and made a step in his direction. “I love you, of course I want you here with me. But only if you want it.” 

Clint held his eyes for a long moment, and then he wrapped his arms around him, held him and kissed him. “Yes,” he said, “I would love to move in with you.” 

Tony held out the key again and Clint raised a brow. “I thought we’re in the future here. Do we really need keys?” 

“It’s… symbolic,” Tony shrugged and Clint nodded. He reached under his shirt, pulled out the leather band with the star he wore, untied it and threaded the key on it before he tied it back around his neck. He smiled when Tony nodded and leaned in to kiss him again. 

“And now? What do we do now?” Clint asked when they parted. Tony smirked. 

“There’s this huge bed we need to test out,” he said. “And the couch… and the armchair… and the whirlpool… and…” 

“I get it,” Clint interrupted him, “We’re going to have lots of sex in the next few days.” 

“Weeks, honey-bunny,” Tony grinned. “Weeks!”


	14. Clint Barton/T'Challa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Found your blog today and love it!! Prompt idea: Bucky and Steve fighting over who gets to date Clint; who they don’t know is already with T’Challa. Or any combination.

T’Challa had brought the renegade Avengers to Wakanda. It was risky, he had to admit, but they needed a safe place and there was no place on Earth safer than Wakanda and his palace. 

He had invited Captain Rogers and his team to live here in the palace. At first they were a little intimidated. Apparently they expected Wakanda to be an underdeveloped third-world country and when they realized how wrong they were, they were really shocked. 

“That’s better than anything Stark has,” Steve had said and nodded appreciatively. 

“Mr. Stark has no vibranium,” T’Challa had said and smiled a knowing smile. “And no Shuri.” 

“Awesome,” Clint had said and grinned. He had spotted peoples with bows in the courtyard and already rubbed his hands in anticipation. 

And now they were here for a few weeks already. This afternoon T’Challa had planned a party in honor of his mother. It was her birthday - a big event - and all the tribal leaders and lots of people would come. 

“Can we… uhm… can we ask someone?” Steve asked and blushed a bit. He and Bucky had found him in the garden where he sat on a bench and watched Clint shooting with the new bow Shuri had built. She stood beside him and watched him and talked to him. 

Steve and Bucky sat down beside T’Challa. 

“A date?” he asked, turned his head and Steve nodded. 

“Sure,” T’Challa said and smiled. 

The two men shared a glance and then Bucky shook his head. 

“No,” he said. “Don’t you dare!” 

“What?” Steve said and cocked his head. 

“You’re not gonna ask him!” Bucky said. 

“Why not?” Steve asked and between his eyes appeared a crease. Bucky clenched his fist and glared at Steve. 

“Because… because he said he…” 

“Gentlemen,” T’Challa interrupted them. “Who’s he?” 

“He… uhm… Clint,” Steve said and nodded at the archer shooting at the targets.

T’Challa turned to look at him now, a serious expression on his face. “You can’t ask Clint,” he said then. 

“Why? Uhm… oh! Is there… is there some rule that… you know… two men…” he started but T’Challa raised a hand. 

“No,” he said. “We have no such rules. People can date whoever they want.” 

Clint put the bow down, gave the arrows to Shuri who looked at them and then nodded. Together they came up to the bench where they sat.

“And why can’t one of us ask Clint then?” Bucky wanted to know. 

“Because he already has a date,” T’Challa smiled and rose when Shuri and Clint were close. He hugged his sister and then he leaned in to kiss the archer. 

Both, Steve and Bucky, stared them open-mouthed, their brows had hit their hairline.

“But… when?” Bucky blurted and now it was Clint who grinned. He put an arm around T’Challa while Shuri rolled her eyes and walked up to her lab with the arrows in her hand, muttering under her breath. 

“When we arrived here,” Clint said. “He came to me to talk about what happened during the fight at the airport… and we talked a lot… like a lot lot.” 

“So… you…” Bucky pointed at Clint, “...and him?” he pointed at T’Challa. 

“Yes,” Clint grinned. He kissed T’Challa again and then looked at Bucky and Steve. “See you at the party tonight. I’m curious whom you gonna ask as your date.” With the bow in his hand he followed Shuri to her lab and Steve and Bucky both stared at T’Challa and his smug smirk. 

“Well, gentlemen, see you at the party.”


	15. Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint/Bucky "you're bleeding out! And I'm stuck here on the other side of the world"

Bucky was frustrated. He was grounded because last time he was on a mission with the team one of the bad guys shot him in his right shoulder and he couldn’t move his arm. 

And that’s why he sat in the HQ and the team was in Shanghai fighting against another alien invasion. He went to the control room and tried to listen, but that was even worse and Agent Hill threw him out after half an hour. And so he paced again in the living room. 

But then FRIDAY called him back in the control room. 

“Agent Barnes,” she said. “It’s urgent.” And Bucky ran.

“He’s here,” Maria just said when he came in and handed him a phone. Bucky took it and held it to his ear. 

“Bucky here,” he said. 

“Buck,” he heard Steve’s voice and he was alarmed immediately. 

“What’s going on?” he snapped and Steve was quiet for a moment. 

“We’re stuck, got separated from the rest of the team, we can’t get radio contact, we can’t get away and… Buck, it’s Clint,” he said. 

“I want to talk to him,” Bucky said. And then he heard rustling. 

“Hey, Bucky,” Clint said. He sounded as if he was in a great deal of pain and his voice was wet somehow. 

“Clint!” Bucky blurted. “Oh my god, please tell me you’re okay.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m okay.” And Bucky heard that he was not. 

“Clint,” Bucky said. “Please… what happened?” 

“Got shot,” he coughed. “Buck… I… I love you.” 

“No,Clint! You have to hold on!” Bucky said. “Please!” 

“Hurts,” Clint said and his voice sounded so wet and he knew, he knew what that meant. 

“Please,” he whispered and slumped down to his knees, held the phone to his ear as if it was his lifeline. “Please, Clint. Hold on.” 

“Can’t promise,” Clint coughed and then groaned painfully. 

“You have to come back to me,” he said. “I need you, do you hear me?” 

“Yeah,” Clint said. His voice was so small now. 

“Clint, listen to me,” Bucky said. “Whatever happens, I need you to know that I love you.” 

“I know,” Clint whispered. “I… I know.” 

Bucky cursed his arm and he cursed the guy who shot him and he cursed the doctor who grounded him and he cursed Fury and Hill and Steve for keeping him away. Clint was bleeding out and he was stuck on the other side of the world. He was not there for him when he needed him the most.

“I love you,” he said again. 

“Buck…” something clattered and then he could hear Steve’s voice again. 

“Someone’s coming.” The call ended. 

“No!” He glared at the phone in his hand. “No, what… what happened? Maria, what happened? Bring him back! I need to know what happened.” 

“We have no contact,” she said and took the phone out of his hand. 

“Please, god, if you’re here somewhere, please don’t let him die, don’t let him die, don’t let him die!” Bucky whispered quietly. He wasn’t a religious man but it was the only thing that came to his mind right now.

Maria stood there and watched screens, listened to someone on the comms and tried to get informations and Bucky sat on the floor and prayed. He wished he could do more but he was stuck here. But then suddenly he heard a voice over the speakers and he saw Maria type on a keyboard. 

“... them, I repeat, we have them.” It was Stark’s voice. “And Maria, tell our Terminator that Merida is alive and medical help on the way.” 

“How is he?” she asked but Bucky couldn’t hear it anymore. Clint was alive! He was alive!

“Thank you, god!”


	16. Clint Barton/Bruce Banner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hulkeye Bruce being a spy.

Bruce casually walked through the casino. To anyone here he looked like a man, who was here to relax, to enjoy his life a bit. His suit was expensive, but not too ostentatious and the glasses gave him the look of a scientist. Bruce was here to work. 

His mark leaned against one of the many bars, a colorful drink in front of him. Bruce could see that he watched the roulette table and one of the women who played there. She was red haired and wore a long, black dress. Bruce knew her. Pepper Potts, Tony Stark’s fiancé and CEO of Stark Industries. 

Bruce knew, that his mark was after her and his job was to find out if he wanted to kill her, to kidnap her or something else. 

“Vodka Martini, shaken, not stirred, ice-cold but without ice,” he ordered and the barkeeper nodded and prepared his drink. When the man shoved the glass over to him he took it and threw a glance at his mark. 

The man was a dirty-blonde with a modern haircut, a gray three-piece suit and black shoes. He still leaned against the bar and just watched Pepper Potts. He held a drink in his hand but didn’t drink, just toyed around with the straw. 

Bruce took a sip from his own drink and started to walk over to him. He swayed a bit and smiled and when he was close enough he staggered and spilled a bit over his suit. 

“Oh my god,” he started to babble. “I’m so sorry, sir. It wasn’t… I mean…. I didn’t… it just…” he kept babbling and reached around him to grab some napkins and tried to clean his jacket. 

The man grabbed his hand and stopped him. “It’s okay,” he said, “No harm done.” 

But Bruce had felt a gun in a halfter at his side and a knife at his belt. The guy was armed and probably dangerous. 

“No, no,” Bruce slurred. “I ruined your nice suit and…” he continued babbling and tried to wipe the jacket again but the man’s hand closed around his wrist and held it and Bruce had to swallow. The man turned to look at him and he just opened his mouth to say something, when his head snapped around and he searched the crowd. 

“Dammit,” he muttered the same moment Bruce whirled around, too. He had his gun in his hand the same moment his mark had and then Bruce paled. Two men had injected something in Potts’ neck and held her arms, dragged her away. He tried to follow them but they were too far away and too many people were between them. 

“Shit,” he cursed and moved without thinking. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the man he had watched trying to follow them but when he was close Bruce stopped him, elbow-checked him and when he staggered he pressed his gun against the man’s temple. 

“Don’t move,” he hissed and the man froze. 

“You make a mistake,” the guy said and Bruce saw him move his hands. 

“I said, don’t move,” he repeated. “What do your accomplices want with Ms. Potts?” 

“My… my what? My accomplices? You moron!” The man hissed. “I’m here to protect her!” 

“You… what?” Bruce asked and the guy looked at him. 

“Tony suspected that someone was after Pepper and he hired me to look after her without her noticing! And now they have her!” The man snarled. Bruce stepped back and he turned. “We have to find her.” 

“I… agree,” Bruce said. His current mission was to find out what Tony Stark planned in his secret labs and his starting point was his fiancé. No one had told him anything about a bodyguard, he only looked suspicious and that’s why Bruce noticed him. “And you are?” 

“Clint Barton,” he said. 

“Banner,” he answered. “Bruce Banner, agent of SHIELD.” 

“Pleasure,” Barton said. “And when we found Pepper you can buy me a coffee for ruining my suit. Until then… move!” 

Bruce grinned. “Let’s find her.”


	17. Clint Barton/Tony Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [machimaquiaveli](https://machimaquiaveli.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  Clint is a broke college student and he is so desperate that accepts Tony's proposal to be his sugar baby. Problem is Tony has another sugar baby and is quite jealous. (I'm voting for Bruce but you can choose). :)))

“I can help you,” Tony said and smiled at the younger man opposite of him. He had met him a week ago when he had a guest lecture at the MIT and Barton was one of the students there. Afterwards they had the chance to talk to him and Barton had flirted with him shamelessly. 

Tony had investigated. He was one of the best mathematics students here and all his teachers thought highly of him. 

“It’s a shame he has to leave,” Professor Williams had said when he had asked him about Barton. 

“What? Why?” Tony had asked.

“Tuition fees,” the professor had said and shrugged sadly. “It’s a shame.” 

Tony had found out his phone number, had called him and said he wanted to meet him. 

“I never thought I would see you again,” Clint had said when he came into the restaurant and sat down opposite of him. 

“Why not?” Tony had smiled and leaned back. 

“Because… oh my god… because you’re Tony Stark and I…” he shook his head. 

“Professor Williams said you’re his best student,” Tony had said and then, “but he also said that you have to leave college.” 

“Okay,” Clint said and rose. “That’s…” 

Tony rose, grabbed his hand and held him back. “I can help you,” he said. “If you want me to.” 

He looked in his eyes and saw Clint swallow. 

“I’m… not that kind of guy,” Clint said but Tony shook his head and pointed at the chairs again. Clint sat down and Tony did the same. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Tony said bluntly. “I wouldn’t be averse to… more,” he said and let it sink in, “but that’s not why I want to help you, Clint.” 

“That’s… not?” Clint cocked his head. 

“No,” Tony chuckled. “You’re a brilliant mathematician and it would be a waste if you would leave college. I mean, I think you’re hot and - like I said - I wouldn’t be averse to more but if you say no then it’s no. But let me help you.” 

“Okay,” Clint agreed after a moment.

Later that evening Tony invited him over to the mansion he owned in Cambridge. 

“You really live here?” Clint asked and looked around in awe. 

“Sure,” Tony grinned and went to the bar to pour himself a drink. “Want some?” 

Clint went over to him and sat down on one of the stools and Tony handed him a glass with Whiskey, too. 

“So, uhm…” he said and sipped a bit, “How’s that supposed to work?” 

“I’ll pay your tuition fees and everything you need. When you graduate you can work for Stark Industries. And you don’t have to stay in your dorm if you don’t want to,” Tony said. “You can have an apartment not far away from college if you like. Or… you can live here.” 

“Here?” Clint blurted and almost choked on his drink. “You mean, here in this house?” 

“He can’t live here,” another voice said and Clint whirled around. Tony leaned against his bar and smiled. 

“And why is that so, Brucie?” he asked the man who just entered. He was a few years older than Clint. While Clint was in his second year Bruce already worked on his dissertation in biochemistry. 

“Because…” he trailed off and went over to them. “Because…” Tony raised a brow. 

“Jealous, Brucie?” he smirked. 

“No,” he said but he went to stand close to Tony nevertheless. Clint looked at his fingers and rose. 

“I guess it’s better…” he pointed at the door. “I don’t want to…” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Clint,” Tony interrupted him. “The house is big enough for one more person, am I right, Bruce? And Clint here needs help.” 

“Sorry,” Bruce said. “It’s… your decision.” 

“Come on, Brucie baby,” Tony turned to him now, put a hand on his cheek and kissed him. “Don’t be like that. I want you two to get along.” 

“If he agrees to accept your offer,” Bruce said and threw a nasty glance in Clint’s direction. But Clint just gritted his teeth, glared back and then turned to Tony. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d love to accept your offer.” 

“Wonderful,” Tony grinned. He caressed Clint’s cheek and a smile appeared on his face. “Welcome to Stark Mansion.”


	18. Clint Barton/Peter Quill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could you do StarHawk with a touch starved Clint? Peters the only one to notice this even though Clint’s always around people? 
> 
> Continued from [this here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12442548/chapters/29597835)

Peter saw it immediately when he came out of the building. Clint was not okay. 

It was necessary that he and Gamora came to Earth to find Thor, the Asgardian prince. They needed his help to - surprise, surprise!! - save the galaxy. Again. 

He landed the Milano outside of the Avengers’ Headquarter where they got greeted by a whole bunch of people in armor, leveling their rifles at them. 

Both, he and Gamora, left the ship and walked down the ramp, unarmed. 

Peter grinned but held his hands beside his head to show them that he was unarmed. 

“Hi,” he said and waved his hand while Gamorra looked threateningly at them. “We need to talk to Thor.” 

“Who are you?” One of the soldiers bellowed and made a step in their direction. 

“Star-Lord,” Peter said. The man who had asked him frowned. 

“Who?” 

“Dude,” Peter said and rolled his eyes and Gamora sniggered in her hands. 

“I’m Peter Jason Quill, also known as Star-Lord,” he said. And then he added, “Hawkeye knows me.” 

It was risky. He had kidnapped him a few months ago to persuade him to kill an alien warlord and afterwards they landed in the sack and fucked like Slytheens. Gamora cocked her head and looked at him and he shrugged and smirked. 

“I’ll check that,” the man said, turned around and whispered in his comm. The others still aimed at him. 

Ten minutes later Clint came out of the building, came over to them and gestured at the soldiers to lower their weapons. 

“Hey, Quill,” he said and Peter smiled and went over to him. He thought about shaking his hand but then he just pulled him in a hug. And Clint held him tighter than absolutely necessary he realized.

“Hey,” he said, too. 

“So, what are you doing here?” Clint asked when they parted. The soldiers were gone and only he, Barton and Gamora were here. 

“We need Thor’s help,” Peter said. 

“He’s not here,” Clint told him. “He’s in London with his on-and-off-girlfriend. If you want to wait, I can call him. He doesn’t need much time to come back. Given that he wants to come back.” 

“Actually, that’s a good idea,” Peter said and looked over his shoulder. “Gamora, could you please inform the team? We need a few minutes.” 

Gamora rolled her eyes, muttered something under her breath and went back in the ship. And Peter put his arm around Clint’s shoulder. “Let’s call Thor,” he said and for a moment he realized, that Clint actually leaned into him. “And maybe you can show me your room?” 

“And then?” Clint asked and looked at him and Peter smirked. 

“Well,” he said and rubbed Clint’s arm. “Rumor has it that I give wonderful massages and you look a bit… tense. And we have to kill time until Thor comes back.” 

Clint looked at him while they entered the building together. “You know what?” he said then, “I’d like that.”


	19. Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OLYMPICS AU?? that would be amazing ~ pair with anyone or no one (whatever you want)

Dorian Susser was a patient man. He needed to be a patient man. He’s been an archer when he was young and then he became a coach. And six years ago he became national coach. 

But this? This was something he never wanted, never expected. 

All the members of his team trained years and years to participate in the Olympic games but now the USOC forced this Avenger on him. Sure, he was a good shot, but this? This was too much for him. 

But the worst was, he wasn’t here yet. Twenty minutes to go and he wasn’t even here!

Dorian paced nervously when Marc, his assistant, came over to him and pointed. 

“Sir!” he gasped and Dorian saw a weird airplane land and the Avenger, Hawkeye, came out of it. He looked rumpled, had bandages on his arms, around his chest and band-aids in his face. A purple shiner was around his eye and he limped a bit. He carried a long, black case in his left hand.

“What the fuck!” Dorian cursed when the man was close. 

“Hey,” he grinned and his teeth were bloody. Dorian almost puked. “You the coach?” the man asked and Dorian took a deep breath and nodded. “Clint Barton,” he introduced himself and held out his hand. Dorian shook it. 

“Listen,” he blurted. “I’m not overly excited about this and…” 

“Don’t worry, coach,” Hawkeye grinned again. “I’ll manage. We just had to stop an alien invasion but now I’m good.” 

Dorian stared at him disbelievingly. A red-haired woman came over to him, said something in Russian. 

“Oh, yes, sorry,” Hawkeye scratched the back of his neck and grinned sheepishly. “That’s classified top secret so…” he trailed off for a second. “You know.” 

“What the actual fuck is this!” Dorian bellowed. This had to be a joke. 

“Ten minutes, sir,” Marc said. Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you ready?” he asked after a moment. It wasn’t his idea that Hawkeye should participate but he had to make it happen. 

“Sure,” the man nodded and opened the long, black case he had brought with him. Inside was a bow. Probably the most beautiful bow he’d ever seen. Black, sleek and he’d die to shoot with it if he was honest with himself but it was… 

“You can’t use that bow,” Dorian said. Hawkeye looked up, confusion on his face. 

“Why? I always use that bow and…” 

“Yes, it’s just not in accordance with the rules,” he said. 

“Uhm…” Hawkeye looked around. “Can I borrow one?” 

“Borrow?” Dorian burst out. “You want to borrow a bow?” He had never heard such nonsense in all his life. No one borrows the bow of another archer, it’s just… ridiculous. 

“Uh… yeah? Why not?” 

“That’s… that’s…” 

“Five minutes, coach,” Marc said again. 

“Okay, fine,” Dorian sighed. “Fine!” he threw his hands in the air. “Marc, get him a bow.” 

“Sir?” the younger man asked, his eyes wide as saucers.

“Do it for crying out loud!” 

“Awesome,” Hawkeye grinned and followed Marc. The red-haired woman - Black Widow Dorian remembered - smiled at him and nodded encouragingly. 

“We’re all doomed,” he muttered. 

At the end of the day Team America had won all the gold medals.


	20. Clint Barton/Lady Sif

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [midghtwishesunheard](http://midghtwishesunheard.tumblr.com/) requested:   
>  I don’t have a prompt just a rare ship if you feel up to it! Clint Barton and Lady Sif.

An Asgardian feast was something Clint had never experienced before. And it sure as hell was not comparable to anything he had experienced on Earth. 

Thor had brought them to his world and insisted to celebrate to welcome them. And boy did Asgardians know how to celebrate. They drank Asgardian mead and ate lots and lots of food and sang and danced and laughed a lot when Thor’s friends told stories about their adventures. 

But the Asgardian mead was strong and the air thick inside and his ears hurt and so Clint excused himself to go out onto one of the balconies. He sucked in the air - it tasted different than the air on Earth - and leaned against the balustrade. He looked over the city and was still baffled about the beauty below him. 

“Too much already?” a voice behind him said and Clint turned around to see one of Thor’s closest friends, Lady Sif, behind him. She didn’t wear her armor anymore. This evening she wore an Asgardian dress that caressed her body perfectly. 

“It’s… different,” Clint admitted. “And it’s very loud in there. My ears,” he said and pointed at the hearing aids. “I had to leave for a few minutes.” 

Lady Sif came closer, looked at his ears and frowned. “They… help you to hear?” 

Clint nodded. 

Like all Asgardians, Lady Sif was tall, taller than Clint and she looked down at him. And she was close, very close. Clint could smell her. She didn’t smell like human women, not like perfume and all kinds of cosmetics, no she smelled somehow earthy, clean and… irresistible. 

“Did Thor show you the gardens?” she suddenly asked and Clint shook his head. 

“No,” he said. 

Sif smiled and reached for his hand, tugged at it. “Let me show you,” she said. “They are even more beautiful.” She gestured at the city. 

“Okay,” Clint said and followed her. Her grip around his hand was strong and he knew she was used to wield weapons regularly. She was a warrior and not just a clotheshorse like so many women on Earth. Clint liked that. A lot.

She led him through the palace and then through a huge door and Clint stopped dead in his tracks. “Wow!” he blurted. It wasn’t exaggerated when she said they were beautiful. 

Lady Sif didn’t let go of Clint’s hand, she led him through the gardens and he followed her to a fountain, surrounded by stone benches. With a smile she sat down and - after a moment’s hesitation - Clint sat down beside her. 

“Your world is really awesome and…” he started but got interrupted when Sif put her hand on his cheek, turned his face around and just kissed him. Clint was confused for a few seconds but then he kissed her back. 

“That was… uh… not what I expected,” he said honestly when they parted. Sif cocked her head and scrutinized him. 

“What did you expect?” She asked and Clint blushed violently. “You’re human,” she said then. “There’s nothing special about you.” 

“O-kay,” Clint was confused. One moment she kissed him, the next she insulted him. This woman was even more weird than Thor. “I… uh…” he wanted to rise but she held his arm.

“I mean,” she said then, “All your friends have something… the serum, the suit, the monster… but you… you have nothing.” 

“I have pretty good eyes,” Clint said. Sif moved her head a bit and then she nodded. 

“Yes, you have pretty eyes,” she said. Clint blushed even more. “And you’re a warrior able to fight alongside Thor.” 

“I… uhm…” he started but once more he got interrupted with her tongue in his mouth. And she was a really good kisser. Clint caught himself moaning and his pants became a little tight in certain places. 

“There’s something else I want to show you,” she purred when they parted again. 

“Yeah?” Clint asked and licked his lips. “What is it?” 

“My home,” she said, her voice low and husky. Clint had to swallow a few times but then he nodded.

“Sounds… uhm… sounds interesting.” 

Sif grinned and took his hand again.


	21. Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ayarasky](http://ayarasky.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  Ooooh, I'm so in love with all your works! Your Clint is incredible! Can you'll write WinterHawk, where Clint was kidnapped by Hydra and turned into a new Winter Soldier, and Baki tries to return him. Thanks!

One year. It was one year now. One year ago Clint got captured on a mission and no one could find him. They all thought he was dead but Bucky knew better. He just knew that Clint wasn’t dead. He would know it.

He sat alone in Clint’s apartment in Bed Stuy, petted his dog and drank vodka. He stared at the turned off TV and took another sip out of the bottle. It’s a pity that he couldn’t get drunk but he liked the burning of the alcohol in his throat. 

Two years ago Steve had rescued him from Hydra, they had worked hard to remove the triggers and Clint had helped him a lot. What happened to him during his time with Loki helped him to understand Bucky and slowly they became more than just friends. 

It was odd. Bucky was never interested in men before but Clint… Clint was different, Clint was everything. And then he disappeared. 

Bucky just wanted to take another gulp of vodka when his phone beeped. He looked at the screen and sighed. Steve. They needed him for a mission. He sighed, sent a quick text to Kate, Clint’s former apprentice, to fetch the dog and left the apartment. 

A few minutes later he sat in a quinjet, wearing his uniform while Stark flew them to Washington. Apparently someone attacked the Pentagon and they needed the Avengers. 

When they arrived they saw the building burning and soldiers were there to shoot at guys in black uniforms. Tony landed the quinjet and as soon as the jet touched down he opened the hatch and the Avengers left it. Bucky took his rifle and went with the team to help the soldiers. 

“That’s Hydra,” Steve said. And Bucky had seen it, too. They didn’t wear uniforms but they still had pins on their collars. But when they saw the Avengers something weird happened. Some of them still shot at them but a few of them moved back and then he saw him. 

Bucky’s mouth went dry immediately. He recognized the uniform, the goggles and the muzzle. Not long ago he wore them and now… the new Winter Soldier had dirty blond hair and… and… he almost fell onto his knees… he had a bow. 

“Clint!” He breathed and Steve and Tony had seen it, too. But Clint didn’t recognize them. He nocked an arrow and shot and only Steve’s fast reflexes and his shield prevented him from getting killed. That was impossible. Bucky’s breathing sped up and he was close to a panic attack. Not Clint. Not his Clint! 

He ignored the rest of the team, the rest of the Hydra soldiers, he had to get to Clint. 

The new Winter Soldier was just in a fight with his former best friend, Natasha, and she ripped off the goggles when he threw her to the ground. He reached for a knife and Bucky started to run.

“Clint!” he called but the Winter Soldier didn’t react. Of course he didn’t. Hydra sure as hell had wiped him, just the way they did with Bucky. “Clint!” 

Natasha punched him and angrily Clint ripped off the muzzle. He whirled around and kicked her and Nat fell, unconscious. 

“Clint!” Bucky screamed again and this time he looked up, frowned. 

“Who the fuck is Clint?” 

Bucky paled. He knew it was like a deja vu. He had asked almost the same question when Steve had fought him at the bridge. 

“You!” Bucky said. “You are Clint!” 

Clint looked at him but he didn’t recognize him. He reached for his knife and made a step in his direction. Bucky raised his rifle. He wouldn’t kill him but he wouldn’t die through Clint’s hands either. And then Clint attacked him. 

Hydra soldiers tried to help him but the Avengers were there, too, and the fight was short. The Hydra soldiers realized they couldn’t win, not even with their new Winter Soldier and they tried to retreat but Bucky put all his eggs in one basket and jumped. Clint went down and Steve helped him to hold him down. He struggled violently, fought with all his strength but they were two super soldiers and he was only one. 

No one tried to stop the Hydra goons. Clint was more important now. Natasha, who was awake again, managed to taze him and when he finally lost consciousness, they tied him up. 

“We will get him back,” Tony said and patted Bucky’s shoulder. 

“We got you back, we will get him back, too,” Steve added. 

And Bucky could only slump down and cry.


	22. Clint Barton/Peter Jason Quill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we get a continuation of touch-starved Clint with Peter Quill?

The music blared through the whole ship. It was some old stuff, Creedence Clearwater Revival or something like that and even Gamora and Rocket sang the ‘Doo doo doo lookin’ out my backdoor’ aloud. Clint grinned when he balanced two cups of coffee to Quill’s cabin. This crew was so weird and that’s why he liked all of them so much. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Peter smiled when he placed the two mugs on the small bedside table. Apparently he had showered when Clint went to the coffee maker to get some coffee for the two of them. He was still wet and a few drops dripped on Clint when he leaned over to kiss him. 

Clint couldn’t help himself, he involuntarily snuggled closer to him and Peter put his arm around his shoulder and sat down on the bed again. He shifted around, so that Clint sat between his legs, his dick pressed against the small of Clint’s back and he wrapped his arms around him. 

“You’re wet,” Clint said but Peter just kissed his shoulder blade, took one of the mugs and drank. 

“God, I missed this,” he moaned when he put it back and Clint turned to look at him. 

“The coffee?” He asked and with a twitch of his lips he added, “Or me?” 

Peter kissed his neck and caressed Clint’s chest and stomach. “Both,” he said then. 

He was worried when he had seen Clint again a few weeks ago. When he had _kidnapped_ him to kill the warlord he had found out that Clint loved to be touched and loved to touch people. But when he had seen him again, he didn’t dare to reach out to people, to touch them. He was… deprived in way Peter never deemed possible. After all, Clint was surrounded by people almost all the time. And when he had offered Clint a massage he had literally started to purr just because he touched him. When he was back on Earth he had to have a talk with his so called friends.

And now? Now he tried to touch him as much and as intensely as possible, to give Clint what he needed. 

Clint let his head drop back to look at Peter and a small smile appeared on his lips. 

“I missed you, too,” he said. 

And Peter kissed him.


	23. Clint Barton/Steve Rogers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Amerihawk Book club AU where one of them own the bookshop.

Friday. Twenty minutes before the book shop closed. Steve rubbed his hands over his thighs and stared to the door for the umpteenth time. 

“He’s late,” Sam said behind him and when Steve’s head whirled around he chuckled. 

“What?” He blurted and blushed. Sometimes he really hated his Irish origins. 

“The Friday night guy,” Sam said. “The one you’re always waiting for.” 

“I… I don’t…” he tried but a snort from the other side made him turn his head.

“Yeah,” Peggy nodded slowly. “You keep telling yourself.” 

“That’s not…” he started but then he heard the bell from the entrance door and he saw him sneaking in, looking at the desk, smiling and then disappearing to the shelf with the new publications. 

“Oh,” Sam patted his shoulder. “Look who’s here.” 

Steve turned around, rummaged through a few papers and pretended to be busy. He could feel Peggy’s eyes on him for a while and then he heard her sigh and walk away. Steve let his head drop and gritted his teeth. Maybe, just maybe, he had a tiny crush on the guy who came every Friday just before the shop closed. 

It didn’t take long but then Steve heard footsteps behind himself. He turned around and saw the cute guy with a stack of books. He placed them on the desk and smiled shyly at Steve. 

“Hello,” he said and shoved them a bit in Steve’s direction. 

“Uhm… hi,” he said. He shifted from one foot to the other. Today he would ask him out. Today he would ask him out. Today he would ask him out. But then he just took the books and started to type the prices into the old fashioned cash register. “That’s… that’s a good choice,” he managed when he read the title of one of the books. 

“I like the author,” the man said with a smile. “I read everything he wrote.” 

“Really?” Steve said. “I.. uhm… I like him, too.” 

They stared at each other for a few seconds but neither one said a word. Steve took the next book and typed the price in the register. From his side he could hear a sigh and out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam pretending to attach price labels to a stack of books. 

“That’s forty-two dollars, please,” Steve said and the cute guy took out his wallet and gave him the money. Steve put the books in a paper bag and smiled. “Have fun with them.” 

“I will,” the guy said, looked at Steve for a second, but then he just grabbed his bag and wanted to go to the door. 

“Excuse me,” he heard Peggy’s voice and his head snapped around. The man stopped and looked at her and Steve paled. Oh god, she would tell him and then he would never come back and… 

“Yes?” the man asked and Peggy smiled at him. 

“I’ve seen that you buy a lot of books,” she said. “You’re here every week and it seems you enjoy reading a lot.” 

The man frowned and cocked his head. “Uhm… yes,” he said then and nodded slowly. 

“See, we have a book club here,” Peggy said with a smile and gestured at the reading corner. “We meet every fourteen days, on Saturday after the shop closes. We pick a book, all of our members read it and then we talk about it. And I thought maybe you’re interested to join in?” 

“Uhm…” the man licked his lips, threw a quick glance in Steve’s direction. And then he nodded. “Yeah, that…” he blushed. “Yeah, I’d like to come.” 

“Steve is here, too,” Peggy said and the man blushed even more. “And what’s your name?” 

“Uh… Clint,” he said. “Uhm… which book did you pick?” 

“The Rules of Attraction,” said Steve now. “Bret Easton Ellis.” Clint scrutinized him for a moment and then smiled. 

“I’ll be here.”


	24. Clint Barton/Tony Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [parkerxstark](https://parkerxstark.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  Could i request Alpha!Clint and Omega!Tony and lots of smooshy happiness?

Howard was more than disappointed when Tony turned out to be an omega. He had always thought his heir would be an alpha and he always let Tony feel his disappointment. Nothing Tony ever did was good enough, even if he was way better than alphas in almost everything. He only differed in size and bodily strength. His intelligence, creativity and business sense was above most of the alphas. 

Tony had to fight his whole life to be accepted. Sure, alphas and omegas had equal rights nowadays but the old prejudices were still in the minds of the people. Every alpha he ever met tried either to subdue him or to kill him. But Tony was too independent, too confident and too cocky for most alphas and they didn’t like that. Not at all. And that’s why ne never, not once, trusted an alpha. Never.

And then he became part of the Avengers. He became part of a team, part of a family. And he met the one alpha he trusted. It was weird at first because he knew, he really knew he couldn’t trust an alpha, not even Captain America. Especially not Captain America, his dad’s friend from back then. But Clint? Clint was different. He was… soft in a way no alpha ever was and yet he was strong enough to attract his attention. He was funny and loyal and warm and good looking and everything Tony ever wanted from an alpha but never got. Clint was different… in the best way possible.

“Hey,” he just heard his soft voice behind himself and Tony turned around. Even in a room filled with people he couldn’t hold back the smile. 

“Clint,” he said when he saw the alpha - his alpha - behind him. Yes, Clint was different. There wasn’t the typical alpha-demeanour when he talked to an other alpha. He just looked at the man curiously and held his hand out for the other man to shake. “That’s former General and nowadays Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross,” Tony introduced the two of them. And with a smirk he added, “And he’s Betty’s dad.” 

“That explains a lot,” Clint smiled. Bruce’s girlfriend was one of the fiercest betas all of them had met. “Clint Barton,” he said then. 

The older alpha just straightened his tie and opened his mouth, when Clint continued. 

“I know it’s a bit rude,” he gestured around at all the other rich and powerful people in the ballroom. “But can I borrow my husband for a moment?” 

Ross gritted his teeth but then he forced a polite smile on his face. “Sure,” he said. “I wanted to talk to Captain Rogers anyway.” 

Clint smiled sweetly at him and when Ross was gone he took Tony’s hand. “Come with me,” he said and the way he said it let shivers run over Tony’s body. He loved it when Cint used the voice. Together they went to one of the balconies and Clint closed the door behind them. 

“What’s…” Tony started but Clint interrupted him with a kiss. 

“I missed you,” he murmured when they parted and Tony could feel his heart beat a little faster. 

“It’s half an hour since we came here,” Tony murmured and Clint chuckled in his ear. 

“Can’t I miss the most amazing man in the world after only an hour?” he asked and Tony shivered again. He loved his voice, loved the way he smelled and the way he touched him and he literally started to purr. Clint nibbled at his throat and Tony’s pants became tight. 

“I can’t go,” he whined. “It’s a Stark Industries event and I have to be here.” 

“Do you want to be here?” Clint asked and Tony shook his head. 

“No,” he admitted. “Not really.” 

“Then why don’t you let Pepper take over and do what you want?” Clint asked and Tony licked his lips. “I know you hate it to be in a room with so many alphas.” 

He considered a few minutes and then nodded. He knew Clint would accept every choice he would make. If he would like to stay, then he would stay at his side. But he was right. Tony really didn’t want to be here.

“Friday,” he said then. “Please call Pepper and tell her it’s her party now. She’s the CEO of Stark Industries, she can entertain them better than I can.” 

“Good choice,” Clint smiled happily and kissed Tony again. “I love you.” And Tony knew Clint really meant it.


	25. Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you please continue the one where clint is the new winter soldier?

They had strapped Clint to a lab table. The shackles were solid and Bucky knew, not even he could break them. He swallowed hard and put a hand onto the glass that separated the two of them. 

Clint was unconscious at the moment and so Bucky just stayed on this side of the one-way mirror. When they had undressed him, out of the Winter Soldier uniform he had to wear, they found something horrifying. Apparently Clint had lost half of his left leg and they had replaced it with a metal leg, just like Bucky’s arm. 

Tony and Bruce had examined it and yes, it was the same metal, the same workmanship. Whoever did this to Clint had built his arm as well. The two had also examined Clint’s blood. They had also given him the serum. Clint was… Clint was like him now, not entirely human anymore. 

He was awake two times since they brought him to the new Avengers HQ and every time he had tried to kill one of them. Steve had a broken arm now and Natasha was still in the infirmary. But the worst was, whenever Clint saw him, Bucky, he reacted really violent. He would kill him if he got the chance, Bucky knew that. 

“Hey,” Steve said beside him. He had heard him come in, had heard the door open and close but he didn’t turn around. “How’s he doing?” 

“Unchanged. Still unconscious, still murderous when awake,” Bucky muttered, his voice hollow. 

“We will help him,” Steve said and Bucky snorted. 

“They did something else, something new. They realized the trigger words could be removed and they did… I don’t know… something else,” Bucky said. “Bruce told me.” 

“Buck…” 

“Even Tony apologized to me,” Bucky said and turned his head to look at Steve. He saw the cast around his right arm. 

“Fuck,” Steve said and folded his arms over his chest. 

“What can we do?” Bucky asked. “We have to do something. We have to help him. We… we just have to… Steve…” 

“I know,” Steve said and put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I know how much he means to you.” 

Clint moved on the table. His eyes were still closed but his hands started to clench and unclench. 

“What happens there?” Bucky asked and swallowed hard, He would love to get in there but they both knew it wasn’t possible. 

Clint tugged at the restraints, tried to sit up but a strap over his chest held him flat on the metal surface. He seemed to be in pain, squirmed and writhed and started to scream. And the words were Russian. 

“What does he say?” Steve wanted to know. 

“He… he says he’s the Winter Soldier and that he’s going to kill all of us if we don’t release him,” Bucky said quietly.

Clint convulsed, screamed in pain, cursed in Russian, pulled at the restraints and just a moment before Bucky decided he would go in the door went open and Tony and Bruce went to him. 

Bucky placed his hands on the one-way mirror when Tony held down one of Clint’s arms and Bruce stabbed a needle in it. It took a few minutes but then Clint closed his eyes and lay still again. Both, Bruce and Tony, looked in the mirror and then they left the room. A moment later they came in to Steve and Bucky. 

“It’s getting worse,” Bruce said and flopped down in one of the chairs. “Every time we have to give him more and if we don’t find a solution then…” he trailed off and looked at Steve. 

Bucky looked at Clint for a long time, blocked out what they said because he had just had an idea. It wasn’t a good idea, and it was more than likely that it wouldn’t work but it was the only thing he could think of.

“Buck?” Steve asked and he looked at him. He had no idea what he had said but he just straightened his back and looked from one of them to the other. 

“I have to go,” he said and went to the door. 

“Bucky?” Steve asked. “Where are you going?” 

“I’m going to rescue Clint,” he said and left the room without another word. There was only one place where he would find out what Hydra did to Clint… and that was the lion’s den itself. He would visit the facility in Siberia.


	26. Clint Barton/Brock Rumlow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: implied rape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [denna5](https://denna5.tumblr.com/) requested:
> 
> If you're taking prompts still how about something sort of dark with Brock Rumlow/Clint and this quote. “Why did you spare me?” 
> 
>    
> Prequel to [Chapter 21](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827679/chapters/34991087)

Clint sat up straight, when the door opened. Or he sat up as far as the shackles allowed it. Some time ago he woke up in a dark basement room with no windows, a naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. He was tied to a supporting column in the middle of the room.

“Look who’s with us again,” a voice said, a voice he recognized immediately. 

“Rumlow,” Clint hissed and tried to get up but the chains held him back. The man walked down the stairs and went to him, hunkered down in front of him, just an inch out of Clint’s reach, and grinned. The scars in his destroyed face turned his expression into an ugly grimace. 

“Nice to see you again, Barton,” he grinned. 

“You bastard killed my whole team!” Clint spat in his face. Literally. Rumlow nodded slowly and used the back of his hand to wipe away the saliva before he backhanded him. 

“Why did you spare me?” Clint asked and turned his head to look at him again.

“Because you’ve been our mission goal, Hawkeye,” Rumlow said. “You’re too valuable to kill you. You will work for us.” 

“No chance,” Clint snarled. “You can kill me right away.” 

“I’m afraid, you have no say in that,” Rumlow chuckled. “We have ways and means.” 

“You want to torture me?” Clint asked and Rumlow’s chuckle increased. 

“No, Barton,” he cocked his head. “You’re going to be our new asset.” 

“What?” Clint paled.

“Your buddy Steve took our Winter Soldier and… well… we got ourselves a replacement.” 

“You’re out of your mind!” Clint hissed. 

“No,” Rumlow shook his head. “Soon, Barton, soon we will work together again.” 

“Fuck you, traitor,” Clint hissed. Rumlow had betrayed everything Clint fought for and he would never work for them. They would have to kill him. 

“No,” Rumlow shook his head and moved his hand, touched Clint’s cheek and caressed his lips with his thumb. Clint tried to move his head back but Rumlow’s other hand dashed forward, grabbed his hair and held him in place. “Fuck you,” he whispered in Clint’s ear.

Clint moved, pulled at his restraints and hissed, “You’re completely insane.” 

“Come on, Barton,” Rumlow said. “Why do you think you’re here, in this basement? Why not in one of Hydra’s labs already?” 

“You can’t do that. If they want me to…” Clint started.

“You will forget everything. Like I said, we have ways and means to erase all your memories. Your past, your family, your friends, your loyalty to SHIELD, everything,” he whispered in Clint’s ear. “And you will also forget our little…” he let his hand trail down from Clint’s cheek to his chest, “encounter here.” 

“You can’t do that,” Clint breathed. He tried to get away but the column in his back and the chains held him in place. 

“I can,” Rumlow said. “And I will, Winter Soldier.”


	27. Clint Barton/Steve Rogers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Serial killer/stalker Steve who has an obsession with/is in love with Clint?

Saturday night. The bar was full to the brim. Steve stood behind the bar and prepared drinks without a break. And out of the corner of his eye he watched the man he desired - Clint - sitting at a table with another man. Both had drinks between them, talked, laughed and seemed to have a good time. Bucky threw a glance in his direction every now and then but kept quiet. 

“What can I get you?” he just asked a young woman and smiled at her. 

“Sex at the beach,” she winked. “And a cocktail.”

Steve laughed dutiful but he prepared the drink and gave it to her. 

Clint put his hand on the other guys arm and laughed at something he had said and Steve almost growled in anger. 

“What can I get you?” he asked a man with a goatee. 

“Whiskey,” the man said and pointed at the bottle on the top shelf. 

Steve nodded, poured some of it in the glass and gave it to the man. 

The guy who sat at the table with Clint said something, rose, came over to him and ordered two Grasshoppers. Steve nodded, his lips pressed together tightly, and started to mix the cocktails. He put them onto the bar and took the money the man gave him. He turned to the register but out of the corner of his eyes he saw, that the bastard threw something in one of the drinks. 

Steve turned back to give him his change, pretended to be a little bit clumsy and he not only knocked the drink over, no, he managed to pour it over the guy, too.

“What the fuck!” the man yelped and jumped back a bit. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Steve said, forced his voice to sound shocked, and with a gesture at Bucky he hurried around the bar and went to the man. “I’m so sorry, sir,” he repeated. “Come with me. I’ll help you clean your suit.” 

The man cursed and ranted but he followed Steve to the door that led to the non-public part of the bar. He looked back but Clint hadn’t seen it, he had watched two women dance suggestively at the dancefloor with each other. 

“Follow me,” Steve said when the door fell shut between the two of them and he led him through a corridor to the door to the backyard. 

“Where are we going?” the guy snarled and when he saw the dumpsters outside he turned to Steve and just opened his mouth to complain when a fist hit him in the face. 

“You dirty bastard,” Steve hissed and straddled him. “I’ve seen what you did.”

“What? I…” the guy started but another hit in his face shut him up. 

“You tried to drug him,” Steve hissed in his ear. “You bastard tried to hurt him!” 

“No, I…” 

“Don’t lie to me! I’ve seen it!” Steve hit him again and again. The other guy tried to defend himself but he was half a head shorter than Steve. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” he eventually admitted. “But he said…” 

“What!” snarled Steve. “What did he say?” 

“That he didn’t want to… you know…” 

“Oh, and then it’s okay when you rape him?” Steve snapped. He wrapped his hands around his throat and squeezed a bit.

“I… I… just… wanted him to… relax a bit…” the guy wheezed. 

“To relax a bit?” Steve was shocked. He knew what the guy had had in mind… and he squeezed. The man struggled, tried to loosen Steve’s hands, tried to suck air in his lungs but it was futile. It took a few moments of him thrashing around with his feet but eventually he lay still. 

Steve took a deep breath, moved his head a bit and sat back. The guy was dead and he just glared at him. 

“Bastard!” he hissed again. He moved, got up and rose, looked around but no one had seen him. Only the staff could enter the backyard. He went to the door, went to the storage, took one of the huge garbage bags, went back to the guy, shoved him in and carried him to his car. He threw him in the trunk and locked the car. He would let him vanish where he had buried the others. With a sigh he went back into the bar. He stopped at the staff restroom to clean himself before he went back to serve drinks. 

But when he came in, Clint sat on one of the bar stools and seemed to wait for him.

“Hey, Steve,” he said as soon as he saw Steve coming back. “My.. uh… my friend… he wanted to get some drinks and Bucky said he left the bar with you?” 

“Yeah,” Steve scratched the back of his neck. “I accidentally doused him with a Grasshopper. I offered him to help him clean his clothes but he was so angry that he said he would go home.” 

“He… just left?” Clint seemed disappointed and Steve’s anger at the dead guy flared up again. 

“Sorry,” Steve said. “I guess that’s my fault.” 

“Oh,” Clint said sadly now. 

“Hey, uh… do you want a Grasshopper on the house?” Steve offered and Clint just shrugged. 

“I hate first dates,” he said after a moment. “Why do people always skedaddle when they’re on a date with me? Am I so horrible?” 

Steve looked at him for a long moment. He had no idea what to say, after all, it wasn’t the first of Clint’s dates he had to off because they weren’t good enough for him. So he just put a glass with a Grasshopper in front of him and smiled.

“They are idiots. You’re wonderful and maybe you’re better off without them,” he said and Clint looked up. 

“Maybe you’re right.”


	28. Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> winterhawk, please. Cap!Backy and winter soldier!Clint, "What Goes Around Comes Around"

Everything has changed. Two years ago he was the Winter Soldier, Hydra’s assassin. He had no idea who Steve was and he hasn’t met Clint yet.

Then he was sent to take out Captain America. And Steve recognized him. And then they fought and in the end Bucky escaped. Steve found him.

After freeing Steve’s team out of the raft he had met Clint and he realized, he liked him a lot. Like a lot lot. 

Shuri managed to remove the triggers out of Bucky’s head. And Steve retired. After his fight with Tony, after literally destroying the Avengers he said it was all his fault and he said he wouldn’t take up the shield again and it took them lots of time and even more persuasiveness, but in the end Tony agreed to accept Bucky as Steve’s replacement.

For more than a year now Bucky was Captain America and no one outside of the Avengers knew that. 

He and Clint got to know each other better, they started to date and… well… they became a couple. And then Clint disappeared during a battle. At first no one had realized it but when there were no more of his comments and no one shot at the enemies the team realized that it was a trap to get Clint. 

It was as like he was fallen off the face of the Earth. Not even with Tony’s or Shuri’s tech they could find a trace. Clint was gone. And three months ago he was pronounced dead. 

Bucky had two options. Either go insane or immerse himself in his work. He chose the latter. 

And then he saw him again. The team was called to help when unknown operatives a federal building. 

Bucky recognized them immediately as Hydra operatives. They wore black uniforms, kevlar, helmets but it was the way they moved, the way they worked. As soon as the Avengers appeared they started to shoot at them and their equipment was state-of-the-art. It was a hard fight but soon the team started to gain the upper-hand. Many of the operatives were dead or seriously injured.

But of course Hydra had an ace in the hole. A SUV appeared, soldiers got out and Bucky paled. He recognized the suit in an instant, the black kevlar, the goggles, the muzzle… and the dirty blond, spiky hair. And the bow. One of the soldiers gave him the weapon, pointed in their direction and the new Winter Soldier nodded, took the bow and started to shoot. 

The first one to fall was Iron Man. 

“Fucker got me with an EMP!” Tony hissed and tried to fend off operatives with his bare hands. 

The next one was Spider-man. He had nailed the kid with an arrow through his leg to a car and Peter screamed his head off. 

“I’ll take over,” Bucky said and fought his way through to the Winter Soldier… Clint. 

The difference between Captain America Steve and Captain America Bucky was the rifle. Bucky had no problems to use one and the operatives beside Clint fell. But now Clint had a new target. Him. Bucky used the shield to not get shot by Clint, he ducked behind cars, and trees, the climbed over obstacles and then he stood in front of him. 

Clint moved his hand and the bow turned into a quarterstaff and he attacked him. The blows came hard and fast, the kicks were extremely painful, more than before he vanished, and Bucky’s lip bled. 

“Clint,” he gasped, “You know me!” 

The new Winter Soldier stopped for a split second and hit him even harder only a second later. 

“Clint, come on, you know me. It’s me, Bucky!” 

“You are my mission,” Clint answered and Bucky felt the dread in his stomach. 

Clint moved his body, kicked him and Bucky went down. He drew a gun, aimed and there was only one thing Bucky could do, he used the shield and ran into him. Together the two of them fell... and landed in the Hudson River. The air was knocked out of Bucky’s lungs, he still fought against Clint’s grip and then pain exploded in his head. He lost consciousness and the last thought was that he would die now through the hands of the man he loved. 

But he wasn’t dead, he came around again and lay on one of the river banks. His shield lay beside him, together with a bow and he could see footprints. Someone - Clint? - had pulled him out of the water and disappeared. And Bucky fell back and laughed and cried at the same time.


	29. Clint Barton/Danny Rand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tessene](http://tessene.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  Hey, i was wondering, can you write unusual couple Clint x Iron Fist? They could easily meet on a random street during a mision or something. So, can you? I'd really like to read it!

Clint cursed, put the arrow back in the quiver and went to the rope he had just attached to the building opposite of him with another arrow. He had no idea how these fuckers could get over there but he was sure they wore the ninja-suits not because they were so comfortable. 

They had robbed a bank and if that wasn’t weird enough, they left the money and just took the contents of one safe-deposit box. And when it was so important to steal it then he was pretty sure those guys shouldn’t have it. 

“Fuck you, you fucking fuckers,” Clint growled when he saw them slide down the fire ladder and run to an entrance to the subway. He sped up, grabbed the rope to climb down as fast as possible but when he went to the subway he got stopped by another guy. 

He didn’t wear the same ninja gear… but he attacked him. And he wore a jogging suit. 

“Goddammit,” Clint muttered when the guy stood in his way and when he tried to dodge around him, he moved, and a moment later pain exploded in Clint’s chest. But even if some people would deny it, Clint was a professional and he recovered in the fraction of a section. 

They exchanged blows and kicks and jabs and when Clint landed an especially hard blow the guy growled, turned, his hand started to glow and Clint flew through the air. 

“And now you will tell me what you and your companions have planned with the Heptatron!” He snarled. Clint lay on the ground and wheezed. His chest hurt and he was pretty sure that a few of his ribs were broken or at least heavily contused. 

“The what?” he asked and tried to get up but the man made a step in his direction, raised his fists again. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm your tits, dude!” 

“Why did you steal the Heptatron?” the man asked again and now Clint moved to lean on his elbows. 

“I didn’t steal it, they stole it!” Clint gestured at the dark entrance to the subway, where the ninja guys disappeared minutes ago. “And I’m pretty sure now they’re gone with whatever they have stolen, asshat!” 

“Then why did you…” the guy asked with a frown now. 

“Because I’m an Avengers!” Clint snapped and tried to sit up. The man let him. But he snorted when he looked at Clint. After all, he didn’t wear his usual costume. He was on his way back from his training when he saw the guys enter the bank and so he just wore sweatpants, a purple shirt and a black beanie. 

“You’re an Avenger?” he asked and raised a brow. “Who are you? Ant-man?” 

“At least you didn’t ask me if I’m Iron Fist,” Clint muttered. “He’s not even an Avengers.” 

“I know that you’re not Iron Fist. I am. I’m Danny Rand, the immortal Iron Fist, protector of K'un-Lun, sworn enemy of the hand,” the guy said. 

Clint raised a brow. “That’s quite a mouthful,” he mumbled. “I’m Clint Barton. Hawkeye.” 

“And the Hand is gone,” Danny sighed. “We need to find them. They have the Heptatron and…” 

“I have no idea what that is,” Clint sighed. “But I know a guy who can help us find it.” 

“Yeah? Who?” Rand leaned down and held his hand out to help Clint up. 

“Tony Stark of course,” Clint grinned and wiped the dirt off of his pants. 

“You know… oh… Avenger, I forgot,” Danny said and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Sure,” Clint muttered. “No one believes me. Why should it be different with you?” 

“Sorry,” Danny said. “Sorry for attacking you, and sorry that I thought…” he gestured with his hand between the two of them. 

“It’s okay,” Clint looked up and grabbed his bow. “Wanna grab a coffee?” 

“I don’t drink coffee,” Danny said. Clint sighed. “But let me buy you one. And I can drink tea.” He smiled. 

Clint scrutinized him for a moment then nodded. “I know a place. Let’s go.”


	30. Clint Barton/Tony Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm the one who asked if prompts were still open. Thank you for answering. In that case, I would like to request an IronHawk prompt with the following: Clint comes back from a long, difficult mission bruised & tired;but finds out (from JARVIS maybe) that Tony has not left his workshop for 3/4 days; queue him picking Tony up in a over-the-shoulder carry, with the genius to surprised to protest, sleepy cuddles and fluff ensue.

Clint was tired. More than tired. He knew, if he would close his eyes he would fall asleep standing. His whole body hurt from the fight and from lack of sleep. But when he opened the front door, he couldn’t resist.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called with a grin. He let his bag drop beside the door and walked to the living room. He would put it away later, right now he was just too tired. 

But the grin faltered after a few moments. Usually, when he came home from a mission, Tony awaited him. He would come to him, wrap his arms around him and kiss him before he checked him if he was injured and then scold him because he was injured. He would kiss him again, would tell him not to call him honey and would drag him to the living room to kiss him like crazy. 

Tony wasn’t here. The house was empty and the mug he had left in the sink before he went on his mission was still there. 

“Jarvis?” He addressed the AI but it was quiet for a long moment. “Jarvis?” he said again and this time the AI answered.

“Mr. Stark ordered me to stay quiet,” Jarvis said carefully. 

Clint stopped dead in his tracks and frowned. 

“Why?” Clint wanted to know and looked at the ceiling. He knew Jarvis wasn’t in the ceiling. Technically he was in the server room the basement of the house. 

“He said he doesn’t want to disturbed,” the AI said. “He told me to keep quiet but… I worry about him, Agent Barton.” 

“Where is he?” Clint asked but he had a good idea where he would find Tony. He was already on his way to the workshop.

“He’s working… since you left.” 

Clint almost ran into a door jamb. “He what?” 

“He said he needed to distract himself. He was so worried about your mission, sir,” Jarvis said.

“I told him that Natasha would accompany me,” Clint muttered and went to the stairs. 

“I know, sir,” Jarvis sighed. “He refused to listen to me and when I insisted he should go to sleep he ordered me to keep quiet.” 

“Okay, thanks, Jarvis,” Clint said when he stood in front of the glass door. Tony sat there, hunched over a table with his back to the door. Clint punched in the code and the door slid open. And for once he wasn’t blown away by blaring music. 

Tony muttered in his beard - and yes, his usually well-groomed goatee had turned into a full-grown Thor Odinson beard - and Clint saw like twenty empty mugs in close vicinity. 

“Hey, babe,” he whispered in his ear and Tony whirled around and literally fell from his stool, his eyes bloodshot and wide as saucers. 

“Clint?” he asked disbelievingly and Clint reached down, took Tony’s hand to help him up. But he didn’t stop when Tony was on his feet. Despite his aching muscles Clint moved, and threw Tony over his shoulder, held one arm in his right hand and one leg in his left while Tony dangled along his back.

“Hey! What… let me down!” Tony tried to protest but Clint only groaned when he had to climb up the stairs with him. Everything hurt and he was tired as fuck, but Tony needed to get out of his workshop, too. “What… where are we going?” 

“Bedroom,” Clint said. “Someone told me you haven’t left your workshop as long as I was gone and we both need sleep.” 

“I don’t need sleep and… damn you, Jarvis, damn traitor,” Tony muttered but he didn’t struggle. With his elbow Clint managed to open the door to the bedroom and when he was close to the bed he just collapsed in the bed. Tony yelped because he hit the nightstand with his leg but Clint wriggled around a bit, spooned Tony from behind and wrapped his arms around his waist. 

“I’m not tired,” Tony complained but when Clint kissed his temple he snuggled closer to him. “Missed you,” he mumbled. 

“I missed you, too, honey,” Clint whispered but Tony couldn’t hear him anymore. He was already asleep. “And I love you.”


	31. Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [damehawkeye](http://damehawkeye.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  Having a bad depression day. Any chance of a Clintucky fic of Bucky being there for Clint when he’s having one?

“Bucky,” Bucky said into the receiver. He was at Steve’s place to play poker when Kate called him. 

“Hey,” she said. “Are you busy?” 

Bucky looked at Steve, at Sam, at Tony, at Natasha and at Maria for a moment and then shook his head. He folded his cards, placed them onto the table and rose. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked and went to the kitchen. 

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m in front of Clint’s apartment and it’s locked and I can’t get in. I tried to call him but he doesn’t answer. And I can hear the dog whine inside.” 

“I asked him yesterday if he wanted to come to Steve’s to play poker but he said he wanted to sleep,” he said. Bucky pursed his lips. 

“I could pick his lock,” Kate suggested. “But I wanted to ask if he’s with you before I break in his apartment.” 

“No, he’s not. But…” he looked over his shoulder at his friends. “Wait for me, I’m on my way.” 

He went back to the living room, took his cards, threw them into the middle of the table. “I fold,” he said. “I have to leave, guys. Sorry.” 

He hurried out of the apartment before one of them could ask questions and he went to his bike and drove to Clint’s building in Bed Stuy. Kate waited in front of the apartment. She sat on the floor beside the door and stared at her phone but when she heard him she jumped up. 

“Thank god!” she said. “I called around and…” 

Bucky nodded, tried the door but it was locked. He used his left arm, the doorknob gnashed and then the door was open. 

“I could’ve used a lock pick,” Kate muttered but she followed Bucky into the apartment. The shutters were closed and Lucky lay on his carpet in the living room, his snout on his paws and whined. He stared at the stairs but didn’t dare to get upstairs. 

“Take the dog for a walk,” Bucky said curtly. “I’ll look after Clint.” 

Kate opened her mouth but when she saw Bucky’s glance, she closed it again and went to get the leash. Bucky went to the stairs and up to Clint’s bedroom. The door was open and he saw Clint lying on his bed. His eyes were open and he stared at the ceiling but didn’t turn his head. 

Quietly Bucky went in, went to the bed and sat down. He slipped out of his shoes and moved to lean his back against the headboard. He slid as close to Clint as possible without touching him. 

And then he waited. 

It took him almost three hours but then Clint rolled onto his side, moved a bit so his head lay on Bucky’s stomach and he put his hand on his thigh. Inwardly Bucky sighed relieved and he closed his eyes for a moment. He put his hand on Clint’s head and ran his fingers through his hair until Clint closed his eyes and his breathing evened out.


	32. Clint Barton/Steve Rogers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Serial killer Steve is amazing! Can we get a continuation of it? Please and thank you so much.

One hour till they would open the bar. Bucky just carried two bottle crates with soft drinks behind the bar to refill the fridges. But Steve was busy glaring at his phone. Apparently the guy who was here with Clint was some local businessman who was well known and the cops searched for him now. He cursed a bit and Bucky looked up. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked and frowned. 

“Nothing,” he lied and put his phone in his pocket. But Bucky kept looking at him. 

“Is it about Clint?” he asked after a moment and Steve shook his head. But he realized immediately that Bucky didn’t believe him. 

“Goddammit, why don’t you just talk to him? Every time he comes with a date you sit here and glare at them, you scare the date away and then you comfort him.” 

“That’s…” Steve started but Bucky interrupted him.

“That’s exactly what happens every time! Talk to him!” 

“He thinks I’m straight,” Steve muttered. 

“Then tell him that you’re not,” Bucky snapped. He grabbed the bottle crates with the empty bottles and carried them out without looking back. When Bucky was out of sight he took out his phone again and started to read again. The cops searched for this guy and they knew that he had a date before he disappeared. That was bad. 

If the cops found out that Clint was his date they would question him and then he would find out that this asshole didn’t just vanish but that something happened to him. Or worse, they would suspect that Clint was the reason why the guy disappeared. No, he would have to do something. 

“Fuck, Steve!” Bucky snarled and his head whirled around. “Stop stalking the poor guy and help me for fuck’s sake!” 

“I’m not stalking him, I just…” he started but Bucky once again interrupted him. 

“Tell me you’re not reading his newest tweet?” he said and Steve felt the urge to just do that, now that he mentioned it. But he fought it down, put his phone back in his pocket and helped Bucky to refill the refrigerators in the bar. 

Later that evening Clint came in. He looked around, went to the bar and flopped down on a stool.

“Look what we have here? Something the cat dragged in?” Bucky joked and Clint only raised a brow. “What’s up, man?” 

“Give me something strong, please. Got arrested today,” Clint said and Steve had to use all his willpower not to hurry over to him and hug him. 

“Oh my god,” Bucky was visibly shocked. “What happened?” 

“Greg - the guy who walked out on me last weekend - is missing and they think I know anything about it,” he said. Bucky had just poured a vodka in a glass but now he stopped and looked in Steve’s direction. Steve could literally feel his eyes on him but he pretended not to, opened a bottle of beer and gave it to the man in front of him. 

“That’s awful,” Bucky said and shoved the glass over to Clint. Steve turned and looked at him now. He seemed tired, worn out and frustrated. These cops… no one was allowed to make Clint unhappy, not even cops. He pressed his lips together, went to them, took the bottle out of Bucky’s hand who threw another glance at him. He refilled Clint’s empty glass and smiled. 

“It’s on the house.” 

And tomorrow he would have to solve another problem.


	33. Clint Barton/Brock Rumlow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is a ficlet Brock/Clint a part of WinterSoldier!Clint's story? If it's so, I'm sooooo fascinated by this story, please continue! You're amazing!! 
> 
>  
> 
> TW: implied rape

Barton was strapped to an operating table. He was unconscious and wore only his boxers. His left leg was bandaged but blood soaked through the material already. 

“What happened to him, Rumlow?” Von Strucker asked angrily. He removed his monocle and glared at him. “I wanted him intact.” 

“It was an accident,” Rumlow lied without qualms. He disliked the snobby German wholeheartedly and the fact that he had to work for him now made it even worse. “He tried to escape.” 

“We have to remove the leg and to give him an artificial one. That will take months!” Von Strucker snarled. “Months!” 

“I…” Rumlow started but with a gesture Von Strucker interrupted him. 

“I had plans with him and now…” he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“We can…” Rumlow said but Von Strucker made that harsh gesture again. 

“Tell me what happened,” he said then and turned to glare at Rumlow.

***

_Clint was still tied up in the basement when Rumlow entered again. He was naked and lay on his side. Blood trickled down his arms where the shackles had cut into his skin but as soon as he saw Rumlow he tried to get away. It was futile, he knew that, but he tried it nevertheless. He had no idea how long he was here now but he knew that every time Rumlow came down to him he would hurt him. He closed his eyes for a moment but then he heard his chuckle._

_“I know that you’re awake, Barton,” Rumlow said and with a click the light went on. It was just a naked bulb on the ceiling but for Clint, who was locked up in the dark room, it was painful and he tried to turn his head._

_“Fuck you,” he mumbled. He tried to sit up but his legs hurt, his whole body hurt and he could barely move._

_“No,” Rumlow hunkered down beside him, grabbed his face and forced him to look at him. “No, I’m not the one who gets fucked.”_

_“Sir, we need you…” a voice from upstairs said and Rumlow turned around and that moment Clint used his chance and headbutted him. Rumlow fell on his ass, his shirt got torn._

_“What the fuck!” he yelled and backhanded Clint, who curled up in fetal position._

_“Sir…” the voice said again and Rumlow rose angrily._

_“This is not over, Barton,” he hissed and left. But he didn’t take the remains of his torn shirt with him. The light went out and Clint slumped back._

_“Idiot,” he hissed and with shaking fingers he searched the shirt for the ugly pin Rumlow had worn. He found it, opened it and used the needle to pick the locks of his shackles, one of the things he had learned when he was a young boy in the circus. He used the scraps of cloth to cover himself a bit and sat up. His body hurt but thanks to his stubbornness he managed to reach the door. Rumlow forgot to lock it again._

_Clint listened at the door and when it was quiet outside, he opened it. No one was outside and he almost made it along the corridor. Almost._

_“Stop!” Someone called and Clint tried to run. He made it through a door and could already see the outside world but then he slumped down and screamed in pain. Someone had shot at him and his knee hurt like hell. He rolled onto his back and held his hands over the bleeding wound when Rumlow and Rollins appeared beside him._

_“Fuck,” Rollins muttered while Clint writhed in pain._

_“Yeah,” Rumlow sighed. “Tie him up and bandage his leg. I’ll call Von Strucker.”_

***

“He could flee,” Von Strucker repeated and scrutinized him. “Do you really think I’m dumb? Do you really think I don’t know what you did?”

“No, sir,” Rumlow said now. 

“Get out of my eyes. If I see you close to him ever again then I will shoot you! Do you get me?” 

“Yes, sir,” Rumlow nodded. 

“And don’t call him Barton again. He’s the Winter Soldier from now on.” 

“Understood, sir.”


	34. Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Winterhawk, please? Where Clint is due to HYDRA/Loki/smb else get wings. Thank you for this!

“We have him,” Steve said. Bucky, who was their eye in the sky as Tony had called it, sighed relieved. 

“How is he?” Bucky asked and then he frowned. Steve was quiet for a very long moment. 

“You… uh… you should see it yourself,” he said. 

“Can I come down?” he asked and Tony confirmed it. They had taken out all the AIM guards and only the scientists were still here but the Avengers had arrested them and SHIELD agents were here already to lock them up. 

“You definitely should come down,” Sam said and somehow he sounded amused. Someone said something in the background but Bucky couldn’t understand it. He was worried and as fast as possible he hurried to the edge of the building where Tony waited for him. He helped him off of the building and Bucky turned around, handed him the rifle and started to walk. And then to walk faster. And then to run until he was in the building. 

Natasha was in the entrance hall, aiming her gun at a few of the AIM guards who were still alive. 

“They’re in the basement but… Bucky…” she said, stopped herself and then looked away for a second. 

“What, Nat! What!” He said but she just shook her head, gestured at the elevator and Bucky hurried up even more. Inside the elevator he cursed the car for being so slow and he sighed relieved when the doors went open. 

“Buck!” Steve called and he saw an open door down the corridor but when he wanted to enter it Steve came out and stopped him.

“Buck,” he said and lowered his voice, his hand on Bucky’s chest. “There’s something…” 

“Is he injured? Is he…” he swallowed hard, “Is he dead?” 

“No, that’s… that’s not it…” Steve looked over his shoulder for a moment and then he took a deep breath and nodded at someone inside of the room. And stepped aside. 

Bucky made a step forward and turned… and paled. There he was. His Clint. He wore only sweats, his wrists were abraded but otherwise he looked like always… aside from two huge, brown wings sprouting out of his back. He looked down and shuffled his feet. 

“Oh my god!” Bucky blurted. Clint shifted from one foot to the other and didn’t dare to look up, only the feathers of his wings rustled quietly. 

“I…” he started, stopped and licked his lips. “I can understand…” 

“Clint!” Bucky said and went over to him, wrapped both his arms around him and pressed him close to himself. “You’re alive!” 

He accidentally touched the wings and Clint moved a bit but Bucky just held him. They felt soft under his fingers. 

“I’m sorry,” Clint whispered and Bucky looked up. 

“What for?” he asked and frowned. Clint still didn’t move, he just looked at his feet. 

“If you… If you…” he tried and a likcked his lips. “I can understand if you…” 

“Clint,” Bucky moved and put a finger under his chin. “I’m not gonna leave you, okay?” 

“But…” he started again but Bucky shook his head. 

“I’m not gonna leave you,” he repeated. “Only if you want me to.” 

“No, I…” Clint said and Bucky saw tears well up in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around him again and this time Clint hugged him back. 

“We’re in this together, remember? You and me against the world and whatever happens now, I’m with you.” 

“I love you,” he whispered quietly but Bucky had heard it. He kissed his temple and stroked his back a bit. 

“I love you, too.”


	35. Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Clint Barton & Bruce Banner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Jonah_Smith_907](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonah_Smith_907/pseuds/Jonah_Smith_907) requested:  
>  Can I request a Clint/Coulson and something along the lines of 'You should have tried harder'? Like in the shitty, heartbreaking way.  
> Also a scene with Bruce would be great, where he gets to rant about Hulk and how he tried to kill himself but it didn't work  
> Amazing ficlets

Bruce loved to work late at night. It was quiet in the tower and since Pepper had ordered Jarvis to lock Tony out of his workshops in the night he actually went to bed. So usually only Bruce was awake most of the time. 

Sure, sometimes one or the other had nightmares but they usually stayed somewhere close to the communal rooms and not in his lab. And that’s why he startled so heavily that he almost dropped the test tubes he carried when he realized that someone was here. 

He looked around but couldn’t see anyone, but his Hulk-senses told him he wasn’t alone. 

“You better come out!” he called and managed to subdue the shaking in his voice. It was quiet for a long moment but then the cover panel to the ventilation shaft moved, vanished and a blond head appeared, followed by the owner of the blond hair, Clint Barton. 

“Oh god, I almost got a heart attack,” Bruce breathed and put the test tubes on one of the tables. He went over to where Clint sat now, his back leaned against the wall and he seemed to sway a bit. 

“What are you doing here?” Bruce asked when Clint didn’t move and didn’t say a word. He hunkered down beside him and could smell the alcohol in his breath immediately. 

“Sitting on the floor?” Clint said and looked around. Bruce closed his eyes for a moment. He was more intoxicated than he had thought. 

“Yeah, I can see that,” he sighed. He took his arm and pulled and reluctantly Clint let him drag him to the couch he had in his lab. “But why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at home? In your bed?” 

“I have no home anymore,” Clint slurred and hiccuped only a moment later. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed, went to the sink and filled a glass with water. He pressed it in Clint’s hand and sat down beside him. 

“Tell me,” he said. Clint shook his head but at least he took a sip from the glass, winced and took another sip. 

“Okay,” Bruce nodded. “Then let me tell you a story. Did you know that I tried to kill myself once?” He turned to look at Clint who furrowed his brows. “I’ve been on a really low point and I just wanted everything to end. I took a gun and shot in my mouth.” 

“What happened?” Clint asked and Bruce shrugged. 

“The other guy spat it out,” he said. 

“Why you tellin’ me?” Clint slurred and hiccuped again. 

“See where I am now. I live in Stark Tower, I have friends around me and a team and the most awesome lab I ever worked in,” he said and gestured around. Clint looked at him for a long moment, hiccuped a few times and then put the glass aside. 

“You should’ve tried harder!” He said out of the blue. 

Bruce blinked a few times, opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again and then asked, “Come again?” 

“That was what he said,” Clint said now. “You should’ve tried harder.” 

“Who said that?” Bruce asked. 

“Phil!” Clint spat. “We… Loki… he said I should’ve tried harder and…” 

“He… he didn’t mean it like that…” Bruce said slowly. He knew that Phil was still frustrated because his recovery went so slow and he couldn’t do anything till he got the go from his doctors. He knew that he loved Clint and that he would never intentionally hurt him. 

“Yeah? It sounded like that,” Clint said and hiccuped again. Bruce nodded slowly, rose and went to his phone. He sent a quick text to Natasha to look after Phil and he would take care of Clint. 

“Come on,” Bruce said and grabbed Clint’s arm again. He hoisted him up and steered him to the door. 

“Where’re we goin’?” 

“You need to sleep. And when you’re sober again you need to talk to your husband,” he said. He shoved him in the elevator and pressed the button to his own apartment. 

“I don’t wanna talk to him,” Clint muttered and tried to get out of Bruce’s reach. 

“No,” Bruce held him. “Bed now. And believe me, you want to talk to him tomorrow.” 

“He hates me,” Clint said and Bruce sighed again. He steered him to his guest room and opened the door. 

“No, he doesn’t,” Bruce said and sat Clint onto the bed. “Now sleep.” He gave him a shove and Clint fell onto the mattress. He muttered something unintelligible but turned around and Bruce threw a blanket over him. 

“Jarvis, please call me when he wakes up,” he said and went to his living room. He could work from here as well. And tomorrow he would find out what happened between Clint and Phil that evening.


	36. Clint Barton/Phil Coulson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint/Phil Dom Sub AU

Phil rolled his eyes when his phone rang. He had work to do and the damn phone rang all the time. How should he finish his work when everyone had to disturb him?

“Coulson,” he snapped when he took the call. 

“Coulson, my office, asap!” He heard Nick Fury’s voice and then a click. 

“Dammit,” he muttered but he shut his computer down, rose, put on his jacket and left the office. He locked it before he went to the elevator. 

Five minutes later he stood in Fury’s office and waited for the man himself. 

“Dammit,” he muttered again. Why wasn’t he here when he told him to come as soon as possible? But just when he wanted to leave again the door went open again and Fury came in. And he just dragged a young man in handcuffs with him. 

“Coulson,” Fury said and nodded with his head at the man he just brought in. “Meet Hawkeye.” 

“Wha… that’s Hawkeye?” was the first thing that came to his mind. He had hunted this guy for months and somehow he thought he was… older, more mature. This guy was twenty at the very most. 

Hawkeye glared at the two of them defiantly but kept his mouth shut. 

“How?” Phil asked. He scrutinized the young man and his eyes widened. He had the typical marks of a collar around his neck even if he didn’t wear one at the moment. The infamous Hawkeye was a sub! 

“A team captured them this morning,” Fury said and walked around his desk to sit down. He threw his coat on a file cabinet and spun around to face him again. 

“Them?” Phil was confused. No one had told him anything about a mission and he was supposed to know about all missions. After all, he was Fury’s third in command. 

“He was part of a team. You get all the details as soon as possible but for now,” Fury started to smile and pressed his fingertips together, “I need you to take care of him.” 

“That was not the deal,” Hawkeye protested. He stared at Fury now and Phil was sure, if looks could kill Fury would die in an instant. 

“The deal, Mr. Barton, was that you work for us. But if you rather go to jail we can arrange that, too,” Fury snapped. “And Phil, you’re the highest ranking agent we have without a sub. Congratulations, he’s yours now.” 

“You can’t just…” Hawkeye started.

“What? I don’t need…” Phil said the same moment.

Both men stopped and stared at each other and then at Fury. 

“I don’t care,” Fury said. “That’s the deal, take it or leave it. That’s for both of you!” 

Phil stared at him disbelievingly and then at Hawkeye. 

“Sir, I…” Phil tried but Fury interrupted him.

“Read your contract. It’s in there. The necessary paperwork will be on your desk in a few hours. And now, take your sub and leave my office.” 

Phil glared at him for a long moment, his teeth gritted but then he took a deep breath and looked at Hawkeye. He wasn’t overly excited as well but they would make the best out of the situation. He was sure of that. 

With a last dirty glare at Fury he took Hawkeye’s arm. 

“Yes, sir!”


	37. Clint Barton/Tony Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! First things first. I love you and your blog which I've been following for a few months now and I love every prompt you write and was wondering if you could do one where Clint has a migraine or something just involving sick birdguy and Bucky or Tony (with some slash ya know) taking care of him??

Tony was worried. When he came back from the office he found the house empty. It was their third wedding anniversary and Clint wasn’t here. They had plans for the evening, he had booked a table in their favorite restaurant but Clint wasn’t here. 

“FRIDAY, where’s Clint?” Tony asked and paced in the living room.

“He’s still in the bedroom, sir,” the AI said and Tony frowned. He’s been in their dressing room to change into another suit but he hadn’t seen him… or heard him. 

“Why?” he asked but went to the stairs already.

“He seems unwell,” FRIDAY said and now Tony was really worried. He went back upstairs and through the dressing room into the bedroom and found it darkened. 

“Clint?” he asked and went to the bed where he could see him lie. “Clint?” 

“Not so loud,” Clint moaned and Tony hurried over to him. Carefully he sat down on the bed beside him. Clint groaned again. 

“Migraine?” Tony whispered and Clint nodded a tiny bit. He barely moved his head but winced in an instant. He was in a great deal of pain. “Fuck!” Tony muttered. 

He rose and went to the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet and rummaged through the bottles they had there. Clint’s doctor prescribed him some painkillers but Clint didn’t like to take them. He said he always felt disoriented when he had taken them. But it was too late for Ibuprofen or Aspirin already. Tony filled a glass with water and took the bottle with pills back to the bedroom. 

He sat down beside Clint again who moaned when the bed dipped and Tony cursed himself a bit but it was too late already. 

“Clint,” Tony whispered and gently touched his shoulder. “I have your medicine here.” 

Slowly Clint turned his head and shook it a bit. “Don’t wanna… makes me dizzy…” 

“You have to take them. And don’t worry, I’ll stay with you,” he said quietly. 

Clint looked at him for a very long moment but then he held out his hand and Tony gave him a pill. He swallowed it, took the glass out of Tony’s hand and drank a few sips. 

“Thank you,” he whispered and lay back again. Tony carefully caressed his forehead before he rose and went to the dressing room. He took off his shoes and suit and put on a comfortable t-shirt and sweatpants and went back to the bedroom. Clint lay on his side of the bed in fetal position and as careful as possible Tony sat back down beside him, lay back and turned to Clint. He wrapped his arms around him and just held him. He knew Clint needed the physical contact to know that he was still here when the painkillers kicked in. 

“Sorry,” Clint mumbled after a while. He had started to stroke Tony’s arm. Tony frowned and looked at him.

“What for?” he asked and Clint turned his head to look at him. 

“For ruining your plans,” he said. Tony swallowed and opened his mouth to say something but then he decided against it and just cupped Clint’s cheek and kissed him gently. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered afterwards. “We can celebrate anytime you want. For now it’s more important to me that you’re feeling better, okay?” Tony said and Clint closed his eyes and nodded slowly. 

“I love you,” he said then, barely audible but Tony had heard it nevertheless. He smiled and kissed him again.

“I love you, too.”


	38. Clint Barton/Brock Rumlow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you continue yours dark Brock Rumlow/Clint, where Clint resists, and Rumlow tries to break him and make him surrender? A little winterhawk would be great :3 Thanks! 
> 
> TW: rape

Brock was all his life a connoisseur of beautiful human bodies. He loved to watch them, to touch them, to appreciate them. And it didn’t matter to him if it was a male or a female body. As long as it was well proportioned, good bemuscled and fit. Yes, that was his poison. And that’s what he found enough of within SHIELD… and with Hydra, too. 

One of the people he had always admired for his perfect body was Clint Barton. His arms and legs were a sight for the gods, his chest was broad, his stomach flat and his waist trim, his ass was perfectly rounded and he had more than once seen him in the showers to know that the bulge in his pants was not a pair of socks. 

Unfortunately - for him - Barton disliked him a lot. And so Brock never got a chance… until Hydra sent him to capture him. He had had him in his basement for some time and took his time to enjoy his exquisite body. 

But now - after the debacle with his leg - Von Strucker took Barton away and he was not allowed to see him. Brock was not an idiot. He knew that Von Strucker was a powerful man and could let him disappear without a trace in an instant. 

Unfortunately - for Barton - Von Strucker was away for a few days and his second in command owed him a favor. 

Brock stood outside of Barton’s cell and watched the man lying on the hard cot. He slept. They had had him in the chair an hour ago, not to wipe him, they wanted to extract his knowledge but so far Barton still resisted. 

Brock let his eyes roam over Barton’s body. It was a shame that they had to amputate the left leg above his knee but Von Strucker said he would get an artificial leg. They were just building it in the labs. But for now Barton was a little… handicapped. And Von Strucker was not here. 

He turned away from the one way mirror and went to the door, unlocked it and let it slam against the wall. Barton startled and almost fell off of his cot. He blinked and then he saw him. 

“Hey,” Brock grinned and went in. “You look like shit, Barton.” 

“Fuck you,” he growled and tried to rise which was almost impossible with only one leg. He held himself upright on the wall but the stubborn bastard managed it and he glared at him. 

“No, Barton,” Brock’s grin broadend. “Fuck you.” 

“You can’t fucking do that!” Barton spat and tried to hobble away but he lost his balance and fell onto his knee and his hands. Brock was on him in an instant, grabbed him at his neck and pulled him up. 

“Von Strucker’s not here,” he hissed in Barton’s ear. “And he won’t come back the next few days. Guess what?” He let his hand trail over Barton’s back and to his ass and squeezed it hard. “Your ass is mine for the next few days and no one - especially not your Bucky - can change that.” 

“No way!” Barton spat and lashed out, landed a blow in Brock’s groin area but missed Bullseye, so to speak. But Brock winced nevertheless. It hurt and he backhanded Barton. He fell back onto his hands and groaned. Brock was on him a moment later, reached for his arm and twisted it on his back, forced him to lie on his belly. Barton struggled but the sessions in the chair and the operation, where they removed his destroyed leg had weakened him and it didn’t take long and Brock had him trapped beneath him. 

“You’re mine!” he hissed and let his hands slide into the sweatpants they had given Barton. He cupped his dick and his balls and squeezed them and Barton groaned painfully, but didn’t scream out. “Mine! And I do what I want with you!” 

Barton struggled even more and he almost got rid of him but then Brock pressed his knee in Barton’s back, held both wrists together with one hand and with the other he pulled down the sweats. 

“And now I’m gonna take what’s mine and there’s nothing you can do.” 

Barton didn’t scream.


	39. Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from Chapter 34
> 
> WinterHawk, please. Clint have wings. "I'm just failed experiment"

Clint refused to see him. They had brought him back more than a week ago and since then he refused to see him. Bucky knew what AIM did to him, he had seen the wings but now Clint said he didn’t want him to see them.

“How’s he doing?” he asked as soon as Steve came back from the infirmary, where Clint was since they brought him back.

“The doctor said he’s okay, well, aside from the wings,” he sighed and flopped down on his couch. Bucky just glared at him. 

“That’s it? That’s everything you gonna tell me?” He snapped and Steve looked up.

“Huh?” 

“I want to know how he’s feeling!” he said.

Steve took a deep breath and rose. He went to the kitchenette and prepared two cups of coffee with the fancy coffee maker Tony had build in in every apartment. He gave one of it to Bucky who glared even more. 

“Steve, please…” 

“He wants me to give that to you,” he said then and reached in the back pocket of his jeans to pull out a letter. He gave it to Bucky who stared at it disbelievingly.

“What’s that?” he asked and Steve took another deep breath. 

“He said he wants you to read this,” he said then. 

Bucky looked at the letter for a long moment before he opened the envelope. 

_Dear Bucky, my love._  
Let me assure you that I love you with all my heart. I love you more than my own life. But this has changed everything. I’m not a human anymore, I’m just a failed experiment.   
You deserve better and I think it’s the best for both of us to end this. Please, move on! Forget about me!   
In love, Clint 

“What the fuck!” Bucky cursed and looked up. He saw Steve sitting on the couch again and held the letter out to him. “What’s that?” 

Steve took the letter and read and then he gave it back. 

“He’s struggling, Buck,” he said then. “What they did to him is…” 

“You know what? Fuck it!” Bucky hissed, crumpled the letter up and threw it at Steve. He turned on his heel and stormed out of Steve’s apartment. 

“Bucky! Wait!” Steve rose and tried to follow him but Bucky threw the door in his apartment, went to the elevator and rode to the floor with the infirmary. He went in and a doctor tried to stop him.

“Sir, you can’t go to Agent Barton. He explicitly said…” she started but one of Bucky’s murder glares stopped her immediately. He went to the door and literally kicked it in. 

Clint sat on his bed and startled when he saw Bucky. His eyes were wide as saucers and his wings fluttered nervously. 

“Bucky, I…” Clint started but with a harsh gesture with his hand he stopped him.

“Fuck you! If you want to dump me then say it in my face!” He snapped. 

“Bucky…” 

“You asshole! You’re not a failed experiment! You’re the man I love and I give a flying fuck if you have wings or not!” Bucky spat angrily. 

“I…” Clint cast his eyes down and his wings folded around his shoulders. He looked smaller than he ever did. “I don’t…” 

Bucky hunkered down in front of him and took his hands. 

“Clint. I love you. Please, just don’t shove me away. Let me be here for you,” he said more gently now. “Let me help you.” 

“But I’m a freak now,” Clint whispered. Bucky looked at him for a long moment before he laughed bitterly. 

“You’re a freak? Look at me! I’m hundred years old and I have a metal arm. I’m a freak just like you,” he said. 

Clint licked his lips, looked at him… and then he wrapped his arms around him and Bucky could hear him sob. 

“You and me against the world,” Bucky whispered and Clint pressed him even closer to his body. 

“I love you, Bucky.” 

“I love you, too.”


	40. Clint Barton & Loki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13685403/chapters/32102328) chapter
> 
> [hawkeyebitches](https://hawkeyebitches.tumblr.com/) requested:
> 
> I really love your story where Clint gets taken by Loki. Any chance of another part?

The Hawk was a reckless fighter. He always threw himself in each and every fight first, the men he led behind him. Loki was angry as fuck but when he had asked him about it he had said every good leader fought at the front of his men. And apparently Thor or Rogers did the same. 

But Loki knew, what he really intended to achieve. He wanted to be killed by one of his enemies. That way he wouldn’t break the word he had given him and Loki wouldn’t harm his friends. 

Loki couldn’t let him get away with it. Today he came back, badly bruised and injured. He had a broken arm and some contused ribs, he had cuts and black and blue marks all over his body. But his body didn’t belong to him, his body belonged to Loki and again he had tried to destroy his property. No one was allowed to leave marks on what was his! No one! 

Loki found him in his room, lying on the cot he had and staring at the ceiling. Someone had bandaged his arm. 

His Hawk didn’t even bother to rise when he entered the room, slammed the door against the wall and glared down at him. 

“What do you want?” He drawled drowsily. 

“Get up!” Loki hissed. The Hawk looked at him for a long moment, sighed audibly and sat up. But he was too slow for Loki’s liking and he grabbed his injured arm and pulled him up. He yelped in surprise and now glared angrily at him. 

“You disobeyed me again!” he hissed and dragged him out of the room. 

“We defeated those fuckers!” the Hawk protested but Loki ignored him. 

“I told you to lead the men, not to get yourself injured all the time,” he snapped. 

“Have you ever been in a fight? People get injured!” 

“You’re an archer! You’re supposed to shoot at your enemies from afar!” 

“Your enemies, not mine,” the Hawk muttered and Loki whirled around and backhanded him. He slumped down to the ground and held his cheek. “What the fuck!” 

Loki dragged him in his suite and shoved him so that he fell onto the floor again. “Get up,” he snarled then and the Hawk just glared back but he just sat up on his knees. 

“Remove your shirt!” he commanded. The Hawk stared at him but didn’t get up and he didn’t remove the shirt, either. Loki lost his patience. He strode to him, grabbed a piece of the fabric and just tore it off of his body. He could see even more bruises there. 

“If you move you will regret it,” he hissed, reached for his belt, removed it and wrapped one end around his hand. And then he let the other end land on the Hawk’s back. He twitched but didn’t scream. Loki let out his frustration with his insubordinate Hawk. Blow after blow landed on his back, his shoulders, his arms and even on his pants covered ass. The Hawk was resilient, Loki knew that, and his arm started to hurt after a while but he continued to punish him and only when he finally started to cry he stopped. His back was littered with welts, some of them bled but painful were all of them. 

“I am the only one who is allowed to mark your body, don’t you ever forget that,” Loki said when he hunkered down beside his Hawk. 

“Yes, sir,” his Hawk whispered. 

“Who do you belong to?” Loki asked and his Hawk looked up.

“You, sir,” he said. Loki smiled, cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss him and his Hawk didn’t struggle. 

“That’s right,” he said and then he used his magic to heal all his injuries. 

“Thank you, sir.”


	41. Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, can you write little AU, where Bucky doesn't die. He tries to find Clint, but he is nowhere, and even Natasha can't help him. Clint is declared dead. But some time later they face in battle or joins the team Ronin, whos hiding his face...

Natasha landed the quinjet and opened the hatch. She turned around in her seat but didn’t rise, she just looked at Bucky, who sat in the back and stared at the floor. 

“Bucky,” she said quietly. “We’re here.” 

He looked up and his eyes found hers. “I know,” he said and then he turned his head to look out at the beautiful landscape outside of the jet. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Nat asked and Bucky took a deep breath. He shook his head. “Bucky, I…” 

“I… I’ll manage, okay?” he said and finally rose from his seat. He knew that there was a fifty-fifty chance that Clint was… gone. He had seen so many people just vanish after Thanos got the last stone and no one had heard a word from Clint since then. 

Bucky left the quinjet and walked over to the farmhouse. Clint had to stay here, they had placed him under house arrest here on his brother’s farm. The front door was open and Bucky knocked at the door frame but no one answered. And so he just went in. He saw dishes on the table. Apparently the family had just had breakfast. Two bowls with cereals and mould, empty mugs, a half eaten bagel on a plate, a feeding bottle on the floor beside a baby’s chair. And dust. Lots and lots of dust. 

Bucky slapped his hand over his mouth. An ankle monitor lay on the couch in the living room. Clint’s. He closed his eyes for a moment and checked the rest of the house but no one was here. Thanos, that purple sack of shit, had killed the whole Barton family. 

He went back to the quinjet and Natasha looked at him. And then she cast her eyes down. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. She started to unbuckle, wanted to go to him but he shook his head and she stopped. “I’m really sorry.” 

Clint was her best friend for years. He was like a brother to her and he knew she was hurting, too, but Bucky was in love with Clint and he just didn’t want to talk. When the engines started he let his head drop against the wall of the quinjet and tears ran over his face. 

***

It was two months since they fought Thanos. Bucky kept by himself when they didn’t have to fight. Tony and Strange still tried to find a way to get to the purple fucker but so far they had no solution and the rest of the team tried to keep up appearance as far as possible. 

Bucky didn’t go with them on missions anymore, he just fought when the fight came to him, and the only reason why he was still in Avengers HQ was because Steve insisted. He spent lots of time in the apartment the two of them shared, he read, he watched TV but most of the time he just lay on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Nothing made sense anymore. Since Clint was gone his life was meaningless. What was his purpose if he couldn’t even save the man he loved?

“Sir,” FRIDAY, Stark’s AI, addressed him. Bucky sighed but didn’t answer. “Sir, Captain Rogers needs you in the lobby.” 

“Why?” Bucky asked and turned around to lie on his side. 

“There’s someone here,” FRIDAY said. “And he wants your opinion.” 

Bucky waited for almost two minutes before he rose. In sweats and without shoes he went to the door, to the elevator and rode down to the lobby. He saw Steve standing there, Nat was with him and some of the New Avengers they had recruited. And opposite of them was a person in a black, asian-looking suit with a few yellow highlights. He wore a mask and two swords on his back. His hands were folded in front of his body and he seemed relaxed, quite contrary to the New Avengers surrounding him. But when Steve saw him he came over to him. 

“Who’s that?” Bucky asked and Steve shrugged. 

“I don’t know. I thought you know him. After all, he asked for you.” 

“For me?” Bucky turned to him now and frowned. 

“He came in and asked if you’re here and demanded to see you,” Steve said. The man looked in their direction now but still didn’t move. Together Bucky and Steve went to him. 

“Who are you,” was the first thing Bucky asked. He didn’t know the guy but apparently the guy knew him. 

“Ronin,” he said. His voice sounded distorted. 

“Do I know you?” Bucky wanted to know and the man shrugged. 

“Who knows?” he said. 

“And… why are you here?” Steve asked now and the man carefully reached in one of his pockets and pulled out a piece of paper. There were dates and names on it and both, he and Steve, frowned. “What’s that?” 

“My indication of references,” the man, Ronin, said. “You can let Stark check it. It’s all the evil guys I took out.” 

The list started a few days after Thanos killed half the universe and contained sixteen dates. 

“References?” Steve looked up and raised the paper a bit. “Why are you here?” 

“I want to join your team,” he said. He still hadn’t removed his mask but Bucky was pretty sure he smirked underneath it. There was something with this guy, something that told him they could trust him. He couldn’t explain it, he was sure he didn’t know him, but his guts, his guts said they could trust him. 

“That’s ridiculous,” Steve just started to rant. “You can’t just stroll in here with a list of names and expect us to welcome you to the team. What do you think…” 

“We accept,” Bucky interrupted him. The man turned to him now and bowed his head a bit. 

“What?” Steve blurted. “We haven’t even seen his face.” 

“I’m sorry, Captain. I prefer to keep my identity secret. I hope you understand that,” Ronin said. “But let me assure you that I am loyal to you and your team.” 

“Are you kidding?” Steve snapped now. “This is…” 

“I trust him,” Bucky interrupted him. “I don’t know why, but… I trust him.” Ronin bowed his head again and Steve stared at him disbelievingly. 

“You’re kidding, right?” 

“No,” Bucky shook his head. “I… I can’t explain it, Steve, but… my instincts tell me to trust him.” 

Steve stared at the two of them now and then, after a very long moment he shook his head and threw his hands up in frustration. 

“Well then, welcome to the team, Ronin.”


	42. Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: unsafe sex practices
> 
> can i request a ficlet with the prompt 'gunplay'? <3 Clint/anyone you want, really, I', not picky :D thanks

Clint shivered. He was naked, blindfolded, his hands tied to the headboard of his bed and his feet tied together, but not attached to the bed. He licked his lips nervously when he heard footsteps come closer. 

“Oh,” Natasha said and Clint moved a bit sideways. “Someone’s happy to see me.” 

Yes, he was hard since Nat had tied him to the bed. He could feel the mattress dip beside him and then her hand on his stomach. She let something - a thin rope - run along his skin and he shivered even more. 

“Nat,” he moaned. He needed more contact, more touch, more… everything.

“Shhh, babe,” she whispered, “or I have to gag you.” 

She let the rope run over his body and then reached for his dick. With practiced motions she wrapped it around the base of his penis, tied the balls, too, and he moaned a bit again. The pressure was exactly what he loved and he was so damn hard now. 

She moved a bit and a moment later she tweaked his nipples and Clint arched. Pain and pleasure, exactly what he loved. And then he could feel something cold on his skin, something metallic and his mouth went dry. Nat’s gun, a Glock 26. 

She let it run over his chest, teased his nipples with it and moved it upwards, over his neck to his face. She touched his lips with it and Clint opened his mouth, let his tongue run around the muzzle. 

“Good boy,” Natasha whispered and moved the gun and Clint wrapped his lips around the barrel. She mouth fucked him with it and Clint’s dick twitched in it’s confines. He was so hard right now. 

Natasha moved her other hand, massaged his balls and teased his dick, the head, the slit, the frenulum while she let the gun slide in and out of Clint’s mouth. He could taste gun oil and metal and gunpowder. 

“That’s my boy,” she murmured. She pulled the gun out of Clint’s mouth and he groaned in disappointment. The cold metal ran over his body again, touched his arms, his chest, his stomach, his legs but not his dick, Nat didn’t touch it with the gun. But Clint needed to be touched. He was so hard, so in need to cum. 

Natasha moved, untied his legs, tied his left leg to the footboard of the bed and voed his right leg so that it was tied to the headboard. It would be uncomfortable to normal people but Clint was flexible, really flexible thanks to his circus training. 

“Relax, honey,” she purred a moment later and Clint could feel her finger at his anus. It was wet with lube and she thoroughly opened him up. And then he could feel the cold metal again. She breached him with her gun and Clint groaned like a horny bitch. It felt so awesome. 

Natasha was good and she fucked him with her gun, touched his prostate with each move inside of him and he could barely lie still. He wriggled and moaned and wanted to be touched and then Natasha pulled at the rope around his dick and suddenly it was free and the blood rushed in and he came and came and came. 

When he came around again Natasha had untied him and sat beside him, grinning. 

“Here we are again,” she said and Clint blushed. He reached up to touch her face and she let him, leaned in to kiss him. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “That was awesome.” He let his eyes trail over to the nightstand where he could see the gun… and then he paled. The magazine was in and she had just fucked him with it. What if...

“Nat, please tell me the gun was unloaded,” he asked and Nat’s grin broadened. She leaned up to him and kissed him again. 

“Love you, babe.” 

“Naaat!”


	43. Clint Barton/Phil Coulson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How detailed of a prompt do you want? Because I can’t get the image of the ending of a super-angst PHLINT story where they were living together and the last thing they did was have a huge fight over the messy apartment when Phil goes dark in a mission and Clint assumes he’s dead and then mourns and all the drama to find him alive and well and he finally comes through the door to find a Clint, eyes red and exhausted from crying who manages an “I did the dishes” before hugging and never letting go

They yelled at each other for half an hour now. Phil came home from work and Clint lay on the couch and played Mass Effect on his Xbox. 

“Hey,” Clint had grinned and waved and Phil had looked around the living room, had thrown his briefcase onto the dining table and huffed frustrated.

“Why’s the dishes from breakfast still on the table in the kitchen?” he had asked. Clint had paused the game and turned around. 

“I asked you to do the dishes when I left for work and you couldn’t even do that?” 

“It’s my day off and…” Clint had tried to defend himself but Phil had interrupted him.

“And it’s not only the dishes. Look at the kitchen! Look at the bathroom! When was the last time you gave the floor a sweep?"

“I was on a mission for two weeks and it’s the first day off since…” 

“Your dirty socks are lying under the bed, your dirty briefs in the bathtub! You can’t even throw them in the hamper!” 

They yelled at each other for half an hour now when Clint told him to go fuck himself Phil finally threw his hands in the air, grabbed his briefcase and the carry-on bag he had in the wardrobe beside the door and left the house. A minute later Clint could see Lola disappear around the corner. 

“Fuck,” he had muttered, turned off the Xbox and started to collect the dishes to load it in the dishwasher. 

***

Clint sat in his living room on the floor. All the shutters were closed and he leaned with his back against the wall, an almost empty bottle of vodka in his hand. He had stopped crying days ago, no tears were left anymore. The only thing left was the emptiness in his heart, in his soul. Phil was dead and the last thing he had said to him was to go fuck himself. 

A week ago Fury had told him. He was on the range, had shot arrow after arrow at the targets. Phil didn’t come back after their fight, he had asked for a mission and Fury had agreed. He had left only hours later. They didn’t even have the time to talk again, to settle their dispute. 

But when Fury himself entered the range Clint’s mouth went dry. Something happened. Something bad. And when Fury cast his eye down, just for a split second, Clint broke down. He knew it. Phil was dead. 

“I’m sorry,” Fury had said and hunkered down beside him. “The whole team… no one survived. No one.” 

He sat beside him for a long time but then Natasha came and brought him home. Home. Clint snorted. This house… it wasn’t home without Phil. It was just a house. He had thrown her out four days ago and since then he drank. 

And he had cleaned the whole house, he had done the dishes and the laundry, he had scrubbed the floors and the tiles and every square inch inside of it. It was squeaky clean from the crawl space up to the chimney. 

But then there was nothing to do anymore and so he just drank. Maybe he would die of alcohol poisoning soon but he really didn’t care. Not anymore. 

He just emptied his bottle when he heard someone at the door and he threw the bottle at it. 

“Fuck off, Nat!” he called and let his head drop against the wall again. “Fuck off!” 

But the person continued to unlock the door. 

“Leave me alone,” Clint slurred. 

The light went on… and Clint thought he saw a ghost. The person in his living room wasn’t Nat, it was Phil, battered, bruised and injured but it was Phil. His Phil!

Two seconds later Clint was over there and had wrapped his arms around him. Phil groaned, it had to hurt him but Clint couldn’t let go of him. He wasn’t dead. He was here! Phil was alive! 

“How?” was everything Clint could ask. 

“Incorrect information,” Phil said. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in his ear. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Phil,” Clint sobbed and held onto him as if his life depended on it “Phil… I… I did the dishes,” he whispered. “And the laundry… and I swept the floor.” 

“Clint,” Phil said and took Clint’s face in both hands. He looked at him. “I love you.” 

“I will never let you go,” Clint murmured when Phil wrapped his arms around him again. “Never.” 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. And that you had to believe I was dead. It was…” 

Clint stopped him with a fierce kiss. “I love you, too.”


	44. Clint Barton/Pietro Maximoff, Bruce Banner/Tony Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you do a HawkSilver where like Clint and tony is really popular and peitro is best friends with Bruce and they are nerds and have a huge ass crush on them and then Natasha and Wanda are like “holy shit guys come on it’s been like two years jeez”

“Hey, Bruce,” Pietro said. He stood beside his table in the cafeteria, a tray with food on it in his hand. “Can I sit here?” 

Bruce looked up and saw him desperately shift from one foot to the other. 

“Sure,” he said then. Pietro put his tray down, reached for a book and hid behind it. “What happened?” 

“I… uh…” Pietro stammered but then Bruce saw Tony Stark enter the cafeteria and his half-brother Clint right behind him. And only a few seconds later their entourage strolled in. The Stark brothers always had a bunch of people around them. Bruce blushed a bit when Tony looked in his direction and shoved a forkful of vegetarian lasagna in his mouth. 

“I understand,” he said when he saw Pietro blush, too. 

He knew they both had a crush on the Stark brothers, he on Tony and Pietro on Clint. It was awful. The two of them were so out of their league. 

“Oh god, please don’t tell me you two are perving on the Starks again?” someone said beside their table. Pietro startled and looked up to see his sister and her friend Natasha stand there, both of them had a broad grin on their faces. 

“Really, brother?” Wanda said and sat down beside Pietro. “You made a fool out of yourself again in front of Clint?” 

“No,” Pietro said, way too fast. And then he winced because he knew that Wanda knew that he lied. “Maybe a bit.” 

“Seriously?” Natasha huffed frustrated and sat down beside Bruce. “It’s like two years you two nerds are pining after them and none of you managed to even talk to them without making a mockery out of yourself” she summed it up. 

“It’s not…” Bruce started slowly but when Wanda snorted he stopped and glared at her. 

“We’re here for two years now, brother,” she said. The two of them moved from Sokovia to the USA two years ago with their parents. Their father got promoted to a new job here and since then they were here and since then Pietro had a crush on the younger Stark. 

“The two are way out of our league,” Bruce muttered. “I mean, look at us? What did you call us moments ago? Nerds! That’s what we are. And Tony and Clint? I mean… their father is richer than god.” 

Natasha looked at Wanda and both girls rolled their eyes. 

“Listen,” Natasha said then and turned to look at Bruce as if he was dumb as a brick. “Tony is as nerdy as you two, maybe even more. He built his own robot when he was twelve and you know that, Bruce. And Clint?” she turned to look at Pietro now. “He grew up in an orphanage and the circus before his father even knew that he existed.”

“How do you know that?” Pietro blurted and Natasha raised a brow. 

“Me and Clint were a thing for a while… that was before he acknowledged that he likes boys more than girls,” Nat said and Pietro’s brows hit his hairline. “We’re still friends, though.” 

“And Tony?” Bruce asked and blushed the next moment. But Natasha had seen it and grinned sly. 

“Tony’s a special case,” she said and Wanda nodded. 

“Yeah,” she added. “He’s attracted to intelligence. Male, female, whatever, it doesn’t matter as long as the person is really smart.” 

“What?” Both, Bruce and Pietro, blurted. 

“Aww, come on, are you blind?” Nat asked. Bruce reached for his glass of water to take a sip.

“Who’s blind?” Someone asked and Bruce literally spat his water over the table and a few drops landed on Wanda’s shirt. He knew the voice and when he turned his head he saw… Tony and Clint Stark, standing beside their table, trays with food in their hands. 

“That’s our cue,” Wanda said and grinned evilly at her brother and Bruce. 

“What?” Pietro squeaked and Wanda patted his cheek, whispered something in Sokovian and he blushed so violently that he choked on his own spit while she rose. 

“We told them that you two would love to eat with them,” Nat said and rose. Tony grinned and sat down beside Bruce now. And Clint walked around the table and took the seat beside Pietro. 

“And now… have fun, boys.”


	45. Clint Barton/Ethan Hunt, Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, winterhawk, Ethan/William. Ethan carry the torch for William and tries to seduce him, but suddenly a stranger with a metal arm appears. And he's disgruntled with it. AU, where Clint works undercover

Bucky sat in the back of a van beside Steve and glared at the screen in front of him. They were on a stakeout mission, watching Clint who was undercover with the IMF, the Impossible Missions Force, not the International Monetary Fund. 

He was with them for a few months now, since SHIELD managed to plant him within their organization. He was supposed to find the mole they had in their ranks, someone who sold informations to terrorists, and the IMF secretary introduced him to Ethan Hunt, one of their best. But the secretary got killed and Clint stayed with the team to stop Cobalt. And afterwards SHIELD said, he should stay with them a little longer. They still didn’t know who sold their information. 

Bucky was more than disgruntled but he agreed to keep watch over Clint. All the Avengers did, they took turns but one of them was always close to Clint, in case he needed help. 

Today the team leader, Ethan Hunt, had told Clint that he wanted to meet him in a restaurant. He was a bit cryptical about the reason and all of them thought that he may know something about the mole. But then it turned out that it was supposed to be a date, that Hunt wanted to seduce Clint. He had ordered food and wine and Bucky tried to melt the screens with his glare. 

“Come on, Buck, it’s just…” 

“No!” Bucky snapped. He had seen enough. 

“Bucky!” Steve tried to hold him but Bucky shook his hand off and before Steve could stop him he was out of the van. 

“Nope!” 

Bucky walked over the street and he glared at the driver of a car that he stopped and raised both hands. He went to the entrance door and behind him he could hear Steve follow him. But he tore open the door and went in. 

Hunt had just put his hand on Clint’s arm when Bucky appeared beside their table. 

“That’s enough! You remove your hand immediately or I remove your arm!” He snarled angrily. 

“Bucky?” Clint blurted and stared at him disbelievingly. And Hunt frowned but he had removed his hand and Bucky saw it searching for a weapon in his jacket. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Clint asked and Bucky nearly lost it. 

“What… what I do here? What the fuck are you doing here?” he spat and gestured angrily at Hunt. 

“Who are you?” he asked and looked from Clint to Bucky and back. “Who’s that, William?” 

“His name is Clint, not William!” Bucky snarled. “And I’m his husband!” 

“You… what?” Hunt asked, his brows furrowed. And then he added, “Clint?” 

Clint pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Bucky, calm down please. Nothing happened, nothing would’ve happened,” he said. 

“Were you spying on us?” Hunt asked Clint now. 

“Can I…” he started, stopped, glared at Bucky, “Would you please sit down? Everyone’s staring at us.” 

Bucky gritted his teeth but after a glance around - and all the staring people - he took a chair and sat down. 

“You’re a spy?” Hunt asked and he looked hurt. 

“He’s an Avenger,” Bucky snapped and Hunt looked at Clint now, his expression unreadable. 

“The… the secretary said there’s a mole within the IMF. I was sent to find the mole but then the thing with Cobalt happened. And afterwards… we still didn’t know who sold IMF secrets and so I stayed,” Clint explained. 

“And…” Hunt asked and licked his lips. “That between us? The… tension?” 

“I’m sorry, Ethan. I like you. I really do, believe me,” Clint said. He reached out to take Hunt’s hand but Hunt pulled it away, the hurt clearly visible in his eyes. “If… if I weren’t married and if the circumstances were different… who knows?” 

“But they aren’t,” Hunt said and nodded slowly. 

“I’m sorry,” Clint said again. 

Hunt took a deep breath and then he looked from Clint to Bucky and back. “So, they sent an Avenger to spy on us. I’m impressed.” 

“Hawkeye,” Clint said and blushed a bit. 

“I’ve heard of you,” Hunt said. “But the press never showed your face.” He turned to Bucky. “But they showed yours, Winter Soldier.” 

“My name is Bucky,” Bucky spat. Steve entered the restaurant just that moment. He looked stressed out and came over to them. 

“I’m sorry, Clint,” he said. “I tried to hold him back but you know him and…” 

“Ethan,” Clint pointed at Steve, “may I introduce Captain America to you.” 

Ethan rose and shook Steve’s hand. 

“He’s single,” Bucky said and all three man stared at him disbelievingly. “What? It’s true! And he’s a nice guy, too.” 

“I… I need a drink,” Ethan said and sat down again. Steve sighed and took the last empty chair.

“We all do,” he said. “We all do.”


	46. Clint Barton/Peggy Carter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, first I want you to know that I absolutely adore your blog. You're stories always make my day. And then... I know you have a liking of rare pairs and I thought maybe you're up for some Clint Barton/Peggy Carter :D

“Laura, I’m home,” Clint called when he opened the door to the farmhouse. He had Natasha’s arm over his shoulder and the other Avengers followed him in. 

“Uncle Clint! Uncle Clint!” Two children ran up to him and hugged him and Clint ruffled their hair. And a pregnant woman appeared in the doorway and smiled gently at them. 

“Hey,” she greeted and waved. 

“Uh… that’s Laura, my brother’s wife. And their children Cooper and Lila,” Clint said and pointed at the children. Tony had assumed that this was a safe house where they would meet agents but when he saw the kids he frowned. “No one knows about this house,” Clint said. “Coulson helped me to keep it out of SHIELD’s files. Only he, Nat and Fury knew about it. And now you do.” 

“Sorry for barging in on you,” Steve said but Laura just smiled and welcomed them in. She brought her famous homemade lemonade and cupcakes and the kids were excited to have the Avengers here. 

Steve just drank from his glass and looked at a few of the family pictures on the wall when he choked and almost spat his drink onto them. On one picture was Peggy Carter, together with a man who looked a lot like Clint. 

“Oh,” he heard Laura’s voice beside him and literally whirled around, pale like a sheet. “Clint’s grandparents. He told me that you knew his grandma, Peggy.” 

“Clint’s related to Peggy?” he blurted and Laura nodded slowly. 

“Yes,” she said. “She told us a lot about you. It’s almost as if I know you.” 

“She never told me about you,” Steve said slowly. Laura smiled sad.

“Her memory is not the best anymore. Most of the times she never even recognized us when we visited her,” Laura said. 

Steve sighed and nodded. “I know,” he said. He just wanted to ask more when Lila called for her mom and Laura excused herself. Steve looked at the other pictures but the resemblance between Clint and his grandpa was striking. He never told him about Peggy and with a sigh Steve turned to find him. He had to ask Clint about Peggy. 

“Have you seen Clint?” he asked Tony who just talked to Natasha. 

“He’s… uh… he’s in the barn as far as I know,” she said and Steve nodded. He left the house and went to the barn but before he could enter he heard quiet voices from inside. 

“I lied to him, grandpa,” a female voice - Laura - said. “I just lied to Captain America!” 

“I’m sorry you have to do that,” a male voice answered and Steve’s jaw fell. It was Clint’s voice. And Laura had called him grandpa! 

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Laura just asked and Clint snorted.

“We’ve been in the same unit and he couldn’t even remember my face,” he said. “I don’t think he should know that…” 

“That what?” Steve said and stepped into the barn. Both, Clint and Laura, whirled around and stared at him. “What am I not supposed to know?” 

“Steve,” Clint said and made a step in his direction. “It’s…” 

“Don’t,” he shook his head. “Don’t lie in my face again.” 

Clint took a deep breath before he nodded. 

“Okay,” he said then. “Yes, I lied to you, Steve. Remember when they took lots of blood to test it after you got the serum? When you went down in the ice they managed to get enough of the serum for a second super soldier.” 

“You?” Steve blurted and Clint nodded. 

“When they picked you for the project, I’ve been there, too. I was Erskine’s second choice. And Peggy? Peggy supervised the project, we got to know each other and then…” he shrugged.

“You married her,” Steve said and Clint nodded again. 

“We had four children and Barney and Laura are two of my grandchildren,” he said. Steve stared at Laura. “It was my idea, not hers,” Clint added. “Cooper and Lila don’t know, they’re too young.” 

Steve looked at him for a very long moment then he shook his head. 

“Why?” he said and Clint had no idea if he wanted to know why he didn’t tell him or why he married Peggy. 

“She always loved you, Steve,” Clint said. He went to him and patted his shoulder. “She was the best wife I could have had, but she never stopped loving you. I knew that and I respected it.” 

“Did you love her?” Steve asked. Clint looked at him and then he shrugged.

“I still do,” he said. “Even if she doesn’t remember me on her bad days.” 

“That’s good. I mean, that she found someone who loved her,” Steve said and nodded.

“When this is over,” Clint said, “we can talk, okay?” 

“Okay.”


	47. Clint Barton/Phil Coulson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: non-consensual
> 
> [machimaquiaveli](https://machimaquiaveli.tumblr.com/) requested:  
> AU where Clint is in jail and Phil is a corrupted jail guard that likes to abuse of his power. Please and thank you. Love you.

When the bus drove into the yard Phil folded his arms over his chest. 

“What do you think we get this time?” Jasper asked beside him. Phil looked at him for a moment and saw that he was excited. He loved the days when they got new inmates, he loved to hold forth about the rules here in the jail and that the new guys are his property now. Technically Phil was Jasper’s superior but he preferred to stay in the back and watch the new ones. He preferred to stay unratable. 

The bus stopped and the guards unloaded the prisoners. Phil wore his baseball cap that was part of his uniform and shades and so no one could see his eyes but he checked all of them out. He always did. 

Oh, that one was promising. Late teens, early twenties, blond, lean but with nice arms. He looked at his clipboard. 

Barton, Clinton F., twenty-one, contract killer. He raised a brow. This kid? A contract killer?

Phil looked up and saw him just trying to shake off Rumlow’s hand but the guard just shoved him and he stumbled a bit in his leg chains. Yeah, he liked this one. A tiny smile appeared on Phil’s lips. 

The guards brought the new inmates into the building and Jasper told them about the rules here, about their duties and their non-existing rights. They got unchained and then were told to undress. Two of the guys did what they got told but two - one of them Barton - refused. It was their first sentence and had to learn the rules. 

When the new inmates wore only their underwear Rollins went to take Barton to search him but Phil shook his head and Rollins let go of him. He stepped aside and Phil took Barton’s arm and led him away into a small room. He closed the door and locked it. 

“Okay, Mr. Barton,” he smiled. “Let’s get through with this.” 

He put on gloves, went to him and started to run his hands through his hair, searched mouth and ears, armpits and navel, his legs and the sole of his feet. 

“Remove your briefs,” he commanded. Barton glared at him and Phil saw that he wanted to refuse but he just raised a brow. “You decide how hard your life here’s going to be,” he shrugged. “I can put you in a cell with Drax. His friends call him Destroyer. Or you you can share your cell with Lang, a thief and hacker. You decide.” Phil cocked his head. “But I will search you, even if I have to call in a few of my colleagues to hold you down.” 

Barton licked his lips nervously but then he nodded and dropped his briefs. Phil went over to him, walked around him, put his hands on Barton’s shoulders and let them slide down over his back to his trim waist. He cupped both his asscheeks with his hands and squeezed them a bit. 

“Please, sir…” Barton said and wanted to turn around but Phil turned his head back.

“Don’t move,” he whispered in his ear. His hand went back to Barton’s shoulder and he pressed so that he had to bow forward. “Spread your cheeks,” Phil commanded. Barton waited a few seconds but then he obeyed. Phil licked his lips and touched his entrance with his finger. Barton flinched violently. Without lube Phil just breached him and Barton winced, groaned in pain. He searched for contraband and accidentally touched Barton’s prostate. Barton gasped with a start. Phil did it again and the boy tried to get away. 

“Don’t move,” Phil snapped. He removed his finger a bit and put it back in, started to fingerfuck Barton and always rubbed over Barton’s prostate. 

“Sir, please…” the prisoner winced. Phil reached between his legs, grabbed his balls and squeezed them enough that it hurt. The boy stopped immediately to wriggle around. But then he removed his finger and ordered Barton to stand up. He took his dick in his hand, dipped his finger tip in the slit and Barton grimaced. He weighed his balls, let them roll around a bit in his hands and couldn’t hold back the smirk. 

“Okay for today,” he said. “But I guess we have to repeat that from time to time, Barton.” 

The boy looked horrified and Phil opened the door, gestured for Rumlow to take him to get his new convict uniform. He would put him in a cell with Lang. He didn’t want Drax to ruin the boy. He had chosen him, if there was someone who would ruin him, then it was him, Phil.


	48. Clint Barton/Tony Stark, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we have some jealous/over protective/possessive Tony (ironhawk) when Phil comes back and reveals he never died? Please and thank you in advance :)

It took Clint three months to use his bow again. It took him five months to be able to work again. It took him eight months to be able to trust again. It took him a year to allow friendship again. It took him two and a half years to allow himself to love again. 

And then it took another four months to admit, that he and Tony were an item now. And Clint was… yes… he was happy again. 

But then he had to appear on the screen again. 

They all thought he was dead. They had seen the footage of him dying on the helicarrier, his heart pierced through with Loki’s spear. They were on his funeral.

And now Phil Coulson stood in Tony Stark’s living room, very much alive. 

“Why?” Tony asked and walked around him. He touched his shoulder to verify if he was a human and not a hologram. 

“It was not my idea,” Coulson said. He held his hands folded in front of his chest. 

“And why now?” 

“I need Clint’s help,” he said. Tony folded his arms over his chest. 

“You? You need Clint’s help? What for?” He snapped. “To break his heart again?” 

“Tony,” Coulson started but when Tony raised a hand warningly, he sighed. “Okay, I have a team. We operate off the records. Only Fury knew about us. That’s why we survived the Hydra fallout. But now we have a problem and we need a sniper and Clint’s the best I know.” 

“Do you have the slightest idea how long it took till he could touch his bow again? He thought he killed you, you asshat!” Tony snarled angrily. “What do you think will happen when he realizes that you betrayed him? Huh?” 

“Tony, please…” 

“Don’t ‘Tony, please’ me! He loved you and you pretended to be dead? How could you do that to him!” 

“I’m sorry, Tony, but…” Coulson said again but Tony interrupted him with a harsh gesture.

“Oh! You think you say sorry and everything is okay? Where are you when he can’t sleep because he dreams of killing you? Where are you when he’s so depressed that he can’t even leave his bed? What do you think will happen, when I tell him that you’re here?” 

“You don’t have to tell him. I can..” Phil started but once again Tony interrupted him. 

“You really think I let you go to him?” He snapped. 

“It’s important that I speak with him. I need him for this mission. There’s no option,” Phil said. 

“Forget it,” Tony said and shook his head. 

“Why don’t you let him decide?” Phil asked and cocked his head and now Tony shook his head. 

“Did you even listen what I said?” He asked back but this time Phil just tried to get past him and Tony called two of his suits to block the door. Phil stopped and stared at the suits that had raised their hands and aimed at him. 

“Really?” Tony cocked his head. 

“It’s important, Stark!” Phil said now and Tony realized the change from ‘Tony’ to ‘Stark’. 

“Listen, man,” Tony said now and made a step in Phil’s direction. “Give me the file. I’ll talk to him and if he wants to take the job he’ll call you. But I will not let you talk to him, not after what you did to him. Take it or leave it.” 

Phil took a deep breath and scrutinized Tony for a very long moment. And then he eventually nodded. “Fine,” he said, reached in his pocket and pulled out an USB flash drive. He gave it to Tony together with a business card. “Call me when you’ve talked with him.” 

He turned around and walked back to the door, but before he left the house he looked over his shoulder, looked at Tony and a sad smile appeared on his lips. “Take care of him.” 

Tony nodded. “I will.”


	49. Clint Barton/Tony Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have u ever written an ironhawk fic where clint go spy on tony instead of nat ? If not please write it ! I luv ur work !

With a groan Clint landed on the floor beside the huge ventilator. “Next time,” he moaned, “I get to seduce the rich guy.” He knew that not only the IMF team listened but also Phil and Nat. After all, he was sent to make sure the IMF could handle the Cobalt situation. 

He could hear Ethan chuckle and Nat snigger through his special comm unit that connected him to both, his actual team and the one he was sent to support. He had no idea that he got his chance only a few months later. 

The IMF had solved the Cobalt situation, they stopped the nuclear missile and Clint was called back to SHIELD. They had a mission according to his wishes Coulson had said and smirked evilly. 

“You want me to what?” Clint asked disbelievingly and stared at the file in his hand. 

“We want you to go undercover in Stark Industries,” Phil repeated. “You’re going to be a notary in their legal department, Clay Barrowman. And maybe you manage to get… a little closer.” 

“A little closer?” Clint frowned and Phil nodded at the file in his hand. 

“Tony Stark swings both ways,” he said. “And you’re exactly his type.” 

“Why don’t you send Natasha?” he asked and Phil took a deep breath. 

“Do you really think another red-head in his life would do the trick?” 

Clint shook his head. “Probably not.” 

“Right,” Phil said. “You start your assignment in three days.” 

Clint took the file and rose. He had work to do to get into his new role.

***

“Tony,” Pepper called. “I’m going to ask you just this one time to sign over your company.”

Clint entered the gym, a folder in his hand, and saw Tony Stark in a boxing ring, together with his driver slash bodyguard slash gofer Happy Hogan. He took in the scenery and the two men in the ring stopped for a moment and watched him walk over to Ms. Potts. He wore a dark gray suit, the pants a little tight in the right places, a light gray shirt and a dark purple tie. He could literally feel Stark’s eyes on him when he walked through the room. 

“I need your signature here and here,” Clint said, opened the folder and showed Ms. Potts where to sign. She did and he looked up to see Stark scrutinize him. 

“Who are you?” he asked and Clint turned to Stark now. 

“Clay Barrowman,” he said. “And I need your signature, Mr. Stark.” 

Stark left the ring, a bottle with weird green stuff in his hand, and went to him. “Do you box?” 

“Not in a while,” Clint said and Stark gestured at the ring where Hogan waited and stared at him disbelievingly. 

Clint removed his suit jacket and entered the ring where Hogan talked to him, but he didn’t listen. He held Stark and Potts in his eyes and he saw Stark just google his profile. They would soon find the photos from his faked acting career and he knew he had them when Stark just whistled through his teeth. 

Hogan moved behind him and Clint reacted on instinct. He grabbed his arm, twisted it around and had him on the floor in two seconds. Hogan yelped and slapped the floor three times and Clint let him up. 

“What the fuck was that?” Hogan muttered. 

“I want one,” Stark just said when Clint turned to leave the ring again. 

“Oh no,” Potts protested but Stark just rose and went to him. 

“Do you like it in legal?” he asked and Clint shrugged. 

“I had worse jobs,” he said and smiled and Stark licked his lips. 

“Well, Mr. Barrowman,” he said. “My former personal assistant just got promoted and… what do you think about a new job?” 

“Tony, no! I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Potts said again but Stark ignored her. 

“What do you say?” 

“Yeah,” Clint smiled. “I’d like that.” 

“Well then,” Stark patted his shoulder. “See you tomorrow morning, Mr. Barrowman.” 

“Until tomorrow, then.”


	50. Clint Barton/Steve Rogers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from [Chapter 32](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827679/chapters/35711835)
> 
> [sobelleveryday](https://sobelleveryday.tumblr.com/) requested:  
> Hi I love your writing! Can I make a Various Clint Barton Prompts request for a Clint/Serial Killer Steve follow-up where Clint actually knows Steve’s a killer and gets turned on by watching him. Steve catches him and they finally get together. Probably better that they go home first but they could be so hot for each other they do it with the body right there!

The thing with Clint’s eyes was, that they were pretty good. Better than anyone else’s. His ophthalmologist almost got a hard-on when he examined them for the first time. He even asked him if he could write an article about his eyes in an ophthalmologic journal. His parents agreed and for a few months the doctor examined him regularly and he got a copy of the journal when the article was published. The thing with Clint’s eyes was that he could see things other people couldn’t. And he liked what he saw. 

Steve was a passionate man with an extremely flexible moral code. And he liked that. He realized that Steve liked him, more than just a friend. He saw it when he was there with a date for the first time. Steve glared in their direction the whole time. He tried to hide it but he couldn’t. Clint’s eyes were too good to hide it. 

His date turned out to be a total asshole. A really, really huge asshole. It was a blind date, Kate tricked him into it, and he didn’t regret it that Steve beat him up later that evening. His date was an ass and he had the nerve and tried to kiss him without his consent and Steve had seen it and when Clint went to the restroom he had lured the guy out of the bar and beat him up. Clint could see it through the windows. It was awesome.

And since then Clint went to go on dates with the biggest assholes he could find and at one point they started to disappear. Clint was shocked because he realized Steve took care of them. 

Until he saw it. It was breathtaking how this man fought for him without telling him that he did it. He strangled most of the guys, wrapped them in plastic sheets and threw them in the trunk of his car. 

Steve got more and more obsessed with him and Clint couldn’t help himself, he had to tease him a bit. If he would tell him that he knew what he did, Steve would stop. Or kill him, Clint. 

Today he had had a date again, a guy who used to check out the homes of the guys he dated only to tie them up and rob them. Sometimes he even raped them. Clint knew that, he had searched to find another asshole to bring to Steve’s bar. He had pretended to be rich, he had even rented an expensive Mercedes to impress the guy and he took the bait. But when they were in the bar Clint told him that it was fake. 

He told him that it was just to ‘get a date with him’ because ‘he was so cute’. Of course Donald was angry as fuck, he had yelled at Clint, had called him faggot in the middle of the bar and he even hit him. And of course Steve came. He grabbed Donald’s arm, twisted it on his back and growled something in his ear. Clint’s eyes were exceptional, unfortunately his ears weren’t. 

When Bucky came to him and asked him if he was okay, Clint nodded. He said he would go to the restroom and Bucky nodded. Fortunately he didn’t follow him. 

Clint hurried to the window and looked out of it. He saw Steve move, beat the guy up, and when he hit a dumpster with his head he hit him again and again against the metal. His head split open like a ripe melon and Steve spat insults in his face until he calmed down. And Clint palmed his dick in his pants. He was hard already and he bit his lip when he saw Steve rise, look at his bloody hands and look around if anyone had seen him. Clint ducked but he couldn’t stop rubbing his dick through his pants. 

Steve entered the bar and left a few seconds later with a plastic sheet, wrapped the guy in it and threw him in his trunk. Clint couldn’t stop rubbing his crotch and he bit his lip. 

But just when turned around he could hear the door open and Steve stood there. He looked at him, an unreadable expression on his face and his eyes flicked from Clint’s face to the window and back. 

“You’ve seen it?” he asked carefully.

Clint swallowed a few times. His hands were still bloody and Steve looked at them for a moment. 

“Did you?” Steve asked again. He scrutinized Clint and went to the sink to wash his hands. 

“Yes,” Clint admitted. He was unsure at first but then he made a step in his direction.

“And it turned you on?” Steve asked and let his eyes wander to Clint’s crotch and back. He could feel the heat rise in his cheeks but he nodded. 

“It turns you on when I kill a guy?” Steve asked. He dried his hands with paper towels and threw them in the toilet to flush them down.

“Only when it’s an asshole,” Clint admitted. Steve cocked his head. “That’s… that’s why I brought so many of them here.” 

Steve made a step in his direction. “You knew it? You knew what happened to those guys?” He was baffled. 

“Yes,” Clint whispered. Steve was only a few inches away now and he licked his lips nervously. And then he just closed the distance, put both his hands on Steve’s cheeks and kissed him. It was a hard kiss, lips pressed on lips, hands on his body, Steve’s tongue demanding entrance in his mouth and Clint moaned and let him in. It was a brutal kiss, a heated kiss and probably the most passionate kiss in Clint’s life and his dick was rock hard now. Steve’s hand ran along his back and to his ass, squeezed it and his leg touched Clint’s cock and Clint was so turned on, he came in an instant. He moaned in Steve’s mouth, his eyes closed and his hands on Steve’s back. 

“I love you,” Steve whispered when they parted and Clint smiled at him dopey, still shooked by the aftereffects of his orgasm. 

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for reading, for the kudos and the comments :D And don't worry, Various Clint Barton Prompts Part 2 will follow soon!!

**Author's Note:**

> [asamandra on tumblr](http://asamandra.tumblr.com/)   
>  [clintbartonruinedmylife on tumblr](https://clintbartonruinedmylife.tumblr.com/)   
> 


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